


Tailor-Made

by HM (HyperMint)



Series: Right Down to the Soul [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Golden Circle didn't happen, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors, No Sex, Post-Kingsman: The Secret Service, possible ooc, slight PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-02 10:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14542737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperMint/pseuds/HM
Summary: Eggsy didn’t really like beaches. Never had.If asked, he’d never be able to really explain why because it wasn’t ever something that needed words.He wasn’t scared of them, no, and he didn’t go out of his way to avoid them.He just didn’t like beaches.And that never affected his training with the Marines or his work with Kingsman, so everyone just shrugged and figured it was some quirk of childhood or something.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.
> 
> AN: So, I'm only going to say it all once: Read Series Description - unless you want to not have spoilers. (You will probably have suspicions after the first chapter, anyway.)
> 
> Can technically be read as standalone, but is connected to 'His Lads' and both are connected to (title pending) 'Dunkirk'.
> 
> Harry is not disabled, here.
> 
> Story is done, updates are Monday and one other day during the week.

* * *

 

Harry remembered the first time he found out about Eggsy’s dislike of beaches.

The lad had been about six, he thought, but his father had had all kinds of stories to tell his mentor as the recruits went about their training.

One day, Harry still couldn’t remember exactly how the conversation had come about, they and a few others had been enjoying some downtime in the sunshine on the front lawn. Even Merlin was there for once.

“Hey, Merlin,” one of the other Agents called over from where he was playing chess with his proposal. “When are you dropping this lot off at the beach?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he deadpanned back.

“I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” James huffed a laugh. “How ‘bout you, Unwin? Bet your kid adores the beach and refuses to go home until well after midnight.”

“No, actually,” Lee shook his head. “Eggsy can’t stand the beach.”

“You’re having us on. Every child adores the beach.”

“Yeah, well, Eggsy doesn’t,” he shrugged. “Neither one of us can figure out why, exactly, but he’s just never liked it. Think he told Mum once that it was too loud. I guess I can understand that.”

Harry filed that little piece of information away like the good spy he was, but didn’t think anything of it. Children – as he’d come to understand – had a myriad of quirks. This was more than likely no different and the lad would more than likely grow out of it with time.

* **

Harry didn’t think about that again for a long time.

He gave young Eggsy the medal, lived his life, and then James died.

‘Oxfords, not Brogues’.

Then it was after the Drowning test and Harry was in his office before he was to track down the good Professor for a chat.

It was late and well after curfew for Eggsy, but Merlin pinged Harry on the glasses.

_‘Looks like your boy might need more activity to put him down for the night,’_ his friend brought up a camera feed that showed a familiar figure slowly making his way down a corridor.

Harry couldn’t help the sigh that escaped him as they watched Eggsy amble along and stop in front of one of the large windows facing the lawn. “I’ll go talk to him. He’s not that far from here.”

Merlin hummed and Harry was closing his office door behind him as he left the room, long strides taking him to the window in moments with the unmoving silhouette standing in front of it.

Well aware that Merlin was still watching – and very aware of what would happen should Harry blindly reach out and touch the bare shoulder in front of him with no warning -, Harry kept his distance and waited for the younger man to notice him.

Since Eggsy was usually very aware of his surroundings and who was in his area, he waited patiently for the other to say something to him.

After a long moment, however, he made sure to shift with a little noise in case he had somehow caught the young man unaware.

Still no response.

_‘I think you’ll have to say somethin’ first, Harry,’_ Merlin was just as curious at the lack of response as Harry was. _‘Odd, though, isn’t it?’_

It most certainly was.

Eggsy never let anyone at his back go unchallenged before and he looked strangely calm and relaxed as he stood in front of the window. It was a far cry from the tense frame he constantly showed to the world, but perhaps Harry had done the impossible and gained enough of his trust that he felt comfortable letting his guard down with him.

As much as that thought pleased him – and a curious warmth touched a place that had long gone cold -, the lad was still out after curfew and Harry needed to get him back to bed.

“Eggsy?” he softly called. “You alright?”

The silhouette began to sway slightly.

“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” Harry looked out at the lawn beyond him. There were a few clouds that were overhead, but the moonlight shone down on the lush green grass.

“Mm,” he finally got a response. “Been so very long.”

Harry blinked at the voice filled with longing as Eggsy’s hands fisted in his sleep trousers. “Been so very long since what?”

“Haven’t seen such gorgeous grass in ages,” he was alarmed at the slight hitch in Eggsy’s breathing. “Forgot – forgot what it looked like.”

Harry could barely make sense of where this was coming from.

Yes, Eggsy hadn’t had the best upbringing after Lee died and, yes, his step father was still an abusive arse, but surely there were places in the city where Eggsy could sit in the grass and just let himself be.

Yes, there probably were patches of grass in the city or something that he’d been to – hell, even lawns of houses he’d cased or robbed wouldn’t look any different from the vast lawn in front of them – and perhaps some of them weren’t the best, but there was most certainly no call to be in _tears_ over the sight of a lawn in the moon light.

_‘Harry… is the lad… **crying**?’ _ Merlin sounded as astonished as he felt. _‘And over the lawn, at that.’_

Harry wasn’t sure if this was something that came out of Eggsy’s childhood – in which case, he should probably pretend this was a one-off that didn’t need further discussion – and if he should do something about it, but he could hear the quiet hitches of breathing and couldn’t resist the few steps that brought him to Eggsy’s side. “Is … there something I can help you with?”

He heard a sniff and a hand came up to wipe at wet cheeks before Eggsy shook his head.

“’M fine,” he gave an unsteady laugh. “Bloody war. Never th-thought I’d ever start bawling over _grass_ of all bloody things.”

War?

What war?

“’s just…” his lips trembled and he swallowed. “I miss home, you know? Never really thought I ever would, but… god,” he gusted out a sigh filled with a sorrowful longing that Harry felt it in his own being. “I don’t even have to be anywhere specific, just… being on English soil would be enough. Because that’s home. I want to go back so _much_ and it _hurts_. Haven’t you ever been so far from home for so long that you miss everything about it? Even the things you swore with every inch of you that you hated?”

“Very much so,” Harry remembered missions that ran for so long that he’d actually forgotten what it felt like to have a home to call his own. He’d forgotten he’d even _had_ a home.

He’d once had a ceramic statue of a mushroom he’d hated all throughout his childhood for absolutely no reason. The mushroom had come back to him after a relative had passed after he’d earned his title of Galahad and he’d refused to look at it for three years.

Then, after a yearlong mission that had dragged him all over the world with an eye always over his shoulder, he’d come back to London and finally opened the box. He’d ended up clutching the ceramic mushroom to him as tears flowed down his face and the mushroom, from that day forward, found a spot to the right of his kitchen window. He knew he was home whenever he saw that mushroom and it was still his most prized possession.

“But you’re on English soil now,” Harry shook the memory away, making sure his voice was soft and reassuring. “You’re home.”

“For how long?” Eggsy’s lips tilted up in a bitter smile as he finally turned to face him and both he and Merlin finally got a good look at him.

_‘Harry… I don’t think … the lad’s awake.’_

He – they – stared into blank eyes that looked right through him.

Bloody hell.

“How long are we staying here?” Eggsy wanted to know, that bitter smile – the one Harry was coming to hate with unprecedented strength – still on his face. “I can promise you, it won’t be long enough.”

Harry stared at him for a long time, long enough that Eggsy’s expression went blank – wiped of bitterness and sorrow-filled longing - and he just… stopped.

The hair on the back of his neck was standing straight up, but he was still Kingsman Agent Galahad and his fingertips were brushing Eggsy’s arm before he realized it. “Come along, then. To bed.”

Harry led Eggsy back to the barracks with the rest of the recruits and saw him tucked in and back to sleep before leaving with no one the wiser of his ever being there.

“Merlin?” he whispered as he went back to the window.

_‘There’s absolutely nothing in his records to say that he sleepwalks,’_ his friend sounded at a complete loss, exactly how Harry felt as he stood in front of the silent night. _‘That’s not to say that he hasn’t done it before, but … I don’t know. Maybe it’s just never been something worth mentioning.’_

It could more than likely be a one-off due to the day’s excitement, but they were both still going to watch him to see if it happened again.

Harry looked out to see the lawn and he couldn’t help remembering the tone of longing in Eggsy’s voice.

What in the world sort of dream had he been in the midst of?

Whatever it was, Harry hoped Eggsy never experienced it again.

* **


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thank you so much for the response!
> 
> It really does make me want to post more up instead of two days a week, but I'm trying to keep to the schedule for a reason.
> 
> I hope you guys like it and aren't disappointed too much by the way this plays out. 
> 
> See you next week!

* * *

After the sleepwalking incident – thankfully the only one -, Harry ended up in the first coma and Merlin told him when he woke up that nothing else had come out of the odd event.

Both concluded it as a onetime event that harmed nothing – because a few of the Knights never had a sleepwalking episode before joining Kingsman and it would be hypocritical to take Eggsy to task over something he didn’t even remember – and that was that.

They forgot about it in the wake of Valentine and the Church and Harry woke up from his second coma almost a year later.

In the year that followed, Harry was allowed back into the field with the new Arthur’s blessing and Eggsy had taken a different place at the Table because no amount of anything in the world was going to convince the young Agent to take Galahad.

The title he ended up taking, however, was… a surprise, to say the least.

“Forgive me for sticking my nose in,” Harry frowned at him on their very first official mission together. “But I’ve always been under the impression that you abhorred your first name.”

“Well, yeah,” Eggsy shrugged. “Even told you that myself, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But I fail to understand how ‘Gareth’ makes any sort of difference.”

“Dunno. Just does.”

And no one adored his Kingsman name more than Eggsy Unwin adored ‘Gareth’.

Merlin had assured Harry that ‘Gary’ was on the boy’s birth certificate and not ‘Gareth’, but the first sounded an awful lot like the second that both Agents were baffled at the complete opposite reactions either name garnered.

Eggsy had to be ‘Gary’ a few times, stroppy and unsatisfied with life when he was.

But he absolutely lit up whenever someone called him ‘Gareth’ – whether as a codename or a cover name.

Though, as in love with ‘Gareth’ as he was, he adored ‘Eggsy’ just as much and pouted whenever he wasn’t called by his nickname for a few days.

Harry eventually cottoned on to his own feelings and found himself separating ‘Eggsy’ from ‘Gareth’ with astonishing ease and earning bright grins in response every time off the clock ‘Eggsy’ became ready to go ‘Gareth’.

By the time Harry and Eggsy were on their third date, three years had passed since the ‘sleepwalking’ incident and Harry – and Merlin, by default – had completely forgotten about it.

Harry could also confirm Lee’s long ago assertion of Eggsy disliking beaches.

On one of their joint missions, they found the time to ‘be tourists’ and Harry insisted that they needed to have a walk to enjoy the sunshine.

Eggsy took one look at the clouds over head.

“Yes, alright. Just…” he heaved a sigh. Just that there was a couple on one of his last missions that reminded him of the both of them and he just wanted to go on a walk with Eggsy and hold his hand.

Was that too much to ask?

It evidently was, since he couldn’t bring the words out.

Something must’ve shown on his face, regardless, because Eggsy studied him for a long moment before his beautiful eyes softened. “Okay,” he agreed. “After you,” he waved him on ahead of him and something loosened inside his chest as Eggsy fell into step beside him.

They were close enough for their fingers to brush, but Harry was content to not push any further than that. It was enough right now to satisfy him, though he wouldn’t mind if their fingers tangled together somewhere further along the trail.

At one point, the trail opened up on a beach.

It was rather chilly for this time of year, but it was still a beautiful afternoon and Harry was strangely delighted with the fact that he and Eggsy were pretty much the only ones along this beach part of the trail.

He wandered down to the waterline and smiled slightly as a small crab scuttled its way back into the gently rolling waves. There were a few shells and pretty pebbles worn smooth and even the odd bit of sea glass every so often.

Driftwood and other debris littered the area, but didn’t overpower the scene in front of him.

He stood there with his hands in his trouser pockets for long, silent moments, hearing the waves move and feeling the sand shift under his Oxfords. It was nice to have the illusion of peace like this.

There was no one else nearby, so he could play into the thought that he was on some deserted beach all to himsel-

“Eggsy?” he frowned, the peaceful bubble immediately giving way as he realized that he was the only one on the beach.

His eyes swept around him, but Eggsy was nowhere in sight and he realized he’d wandered quite a bit away from the forested part of the walking trail.

“Eggsy?” Harry did a full 180, but his footsteps were the only traces of anyone having been there at all.

He’d been by himself for quite some time.

“Eggsy!” he felt his heart move into his throat as he backtracked, trying desperately not to panic as he kicked himself for losing the younger man. He’d never even noticed his partner’s absence.

How could he do that to Eggsy?

He’d just left him without a second thought, never realizing the other wasn’t moving with him. This wasn’t how he wanted to start their personal relationship, what did suddenly losing him say about Harry?

He was going to have to work diligently to prove to Eggsy that he was worthy of him and that this was never going to happen again. Of that, he would most assuredly vow.

After increasingly panicked minutes passed without a sign of his partner, he was about to contact Merlin when he found himself going back into the woods and his eyes immediately latched onto the familiar figure curled against a tree.

“Eggsy,” he felt wobbly with relief and thought nothing of plopping down on the ground next to the blond to lean back into the tree with him. “Thought you decided to explore without me.”

His heart calmed as he sat next to him, his breathing stabilizing before he glanced over to see Eggsy’s face in his hands.

“Eggsy?” he frowned.

There was no response.

No quip about his age making him want to appreciate the scenery, no witty comeback about what gentlemen did or didn’t do, no roguish smile as he pretended to be waiting for Harry’s attention, nothing.

Many times, Harry had wondered if Eggsy would ever be serious in his downtime now that his personal life was improved, and this certainly counted as a sort of ‘downtime’ even on a mission, but the young man before him was tense and silent.

Outside of personal history or mission duties, Eggsy was never tense or silent. Never like this.

It was unsettling and concerning.

“Eggsy?” Harry’s voice gentled. “What is it?”

He scrubbed his face with his hands and raked his fingers through his soft blond hair. “Sorry, Haz,” he sighed. “It’s… I…” he sighed again. “Don’t like the beach.”

Oh.

Oh no.

A niggle of memory had Harry closing his eyes with a quiet groan.

“That’s right,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your father said something to that effect and, I admit, I didn’t quite believe him.”

“’s alright,” Eggsy shifted and Harry glanced over to see him hugging his legs to his chest, leaning his chin on his knees with a faraway look on his face. “No one really believes me when I say I don’t like the beach. My sister adores the place and my friends would call it ‘Uncle Day’ when they could take her out,” Harry could hear the guilt in his voice at his inability to look past his dislike of beaches to give his little sister a good day to remember. “Felt like a failure for the longest time, you know? My friends didn’t really get it, but they were there the best they could be. Ryan and Jamal, they did tease me about it once. An’ I think I just started bawlin’ my eyes out.” He heaved a shuddery sigh and lifted a shoulder.

“When I tell people I don’t like the beach, they always ask why I don’ and I jus’ don’ know what to tell ’em. I don’ know why I don’ like the beach, ‘arry,” he sounded like he was about to start crying in frustration right there. “I jus’ don’ and I never have. Ain’t scared of them, just don’ wan’ anythin’ to do with ‘em and I keep askin’ myself why. I’ll do missions – ‘ave done b’fore – and I don’ think about it, but don’ got a reason to be here now and I…” he trailed off with an agitated shake of his head.

Harry was quiet for a few beats before shrugging and hugging his own legs to himself. “Far be it for me to judge someone else’s hesitation. I still can’t walk into a … you know,” because they did talk some about it. The Church.

“Bu’ tha’s different,” he negated. “I mean, yeah, you don’ remember it too well, bu’ at least you have a reason. I don’t. It would be different if I went mental on a beach with a crowd of people like you did at that place, but beaches never did nothin’ to me. ‘ow can I be… ‘ow can I not like or – or be scared of somethin’ that never did nothin’ ‘cept just be there? It ain’t a beach’s fault I can’ stand it.”

“It’s not your fault, either,” Harry quietly added, tilting his head to watch him. “Sometimes, phobias get the best of us, whether the phobia is justified or not.”

“Not sure I’m scared of beaches, but I did look it up once,” Eggsy frowned. “Never did find anything concrete-like, but ‘littoral’ has to do with beaches and such. Would that make it ‘Littorophobia?’”

“Sounds right,” he nodded. “I am, however, not a scientist – regardless of my butterflies – and have no such authority to make it official.”

“Guess makin’ words up ain’t somethin’ gentlemen do, then?” a flicker of a smile appeared, Harry feeling a bit lighter seeing it at last.

“Well, not officially,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I like to think I’d become a lepidopterist and I’d pretend to write a strongly worded letter to someone about how to correctly categorize the separate fears of butterflies and caterpillars.”

“Shut up,” Eggsy turned to him with a disbelieving grin, all signs of previous upset vanishing. “You mean there are people scared of itsy caterpillars?”

“Mmhm. Are you?”

“No,” he laughed. “I like the fuzzy ones. Those ones there are always funny for some reason – like someone’s eyebrows decided to break for lunch or –” he broke off with even more laughter at the thought.

Harry smiled widely in response, giving a few chuckles of his own.

It was good to see Eggsy back to his happy self, joking and laughing, and Harry had absolutely no qualms about encouraging it.

Eggsy’s dislike of beaches may not make sense to either of them, but Harry wasn’t just going to let Eggsy deal with it all by himself. He absolutely abhorred the thought.

It was that moment – the moment that he acknowledged what he would do for Eggsy to smile – that he began to realize just how far in love he’d fallen.

And it would have honestly terrified him any other time – any other place -, but he sat there on the fringe between forest and beach, the ground slightly cold and hard beneath them, and related one amusing anecdote after another so that Eggsy didn’t have to think about beaches or the dislike of them that he wasn’t even sure had a source.

As long as Harry kept feeling like he was flying every time Eggsy smiled or knocked against him in mirth, as long as Eggsy and Harry would always be there for each other in the face of fears real and imagined, Harry let his knowledge sink warm and sure in his chest.

He wasn’t afraid and he couldn’t be.

* **


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your Monday update! Enjoy!

* * *

A few weeks went by and one mission involving a beach came and went without incident.

“I see you didn’t let that beach get the best of you,” Harry gave Eggsy a small smile as they met out on the lawn, the younger Agent doing warm-up stretches before embarking on a light jog around the estate. “Bloody well done.”

“Told you it didn’t bother me,” the blond leaned back on his hands with a smug smile. “But thanks. It’s nice to know I don’t need to be tied down to train tracks for your approval.”

Harry hummed noncommittedly and tapped his own solo mission file on his palm. “Are you free tonight? I’ve got some time for dinner or drinks.”

“Drinks,” he decided. “Roxy has to unwind after her latest and take-out was ordered.”

“Fair enough,” Harry nodded. Much as he wanted to keep Eggsy for himself, he had to share. “Perhaps before I leave, then?”

“It’s a date.”

And damn, if Eggsy didn’t look delighted at the thought.

Harry suspected that he had a besotted smile on his face, but Eggsy had a bright one on his and Harry couldn’t bring himself to care.

* **

Three more missions and a handful of dates passed before Eggsy and Roxy were called in for a joint assignment.

Harry had had to spend time at the shop and wasn’t present on the grounds, but Eggsy tracked him down to tell him about it.

“Hey,” Harry looked up at the knock to see the blond smiling at the door to the back room. “Got a minute?”

“Always,” he nodded, straightening and waving him in. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Got a new mission,” Eggsy closed the door and sat on a stool with a slight frown. “Long story short, I’m Roxy’s kept man. Well, flavour of the month, anyway.”

Harry stuffed down the urge to tell him that he could be Harry’s kept man, if he wanted to be of the ‘kept’ variety, but that sounded too much like something he wasn’t entirely certain Eggsy _hadn’t_ been forced to do. “And what of yourself?” 

“World War Two buff,” he shrugged, gaze on a scrap of fabric that found itself on the floor. “Have to act like I know what I’m talking about.”

“And what do you think of the Second World War?” Harry was curious about Eggsy’s interests when it came to subjects like academia and areas of study and the like.

“Dunno. Never really… paid attention, I guess?” he gusted a sigh. “Plus, school wasn’t… exactly something I needed to be concerned about, you know?”

“I see. Well, this would be a good opportunity for you to learn a little more about your own interests.”

“Maybe,” the twisted mouth had Harry tilting his head to the side.

“You don’t want to study the subject?”

Eggsy frowned to himself and seemed to struggle with something before shrugging and shaking his head. “That ain’t it. I… I don’t know. Just feel… uneasy? Sounds stupid, right?” he smiled self-deprecatingly. “Don’t even know anything ‘bout it and I feel kind of…”

“Not at all,” Harry immediately negated. “Eggsy, make no mistake: War is nothing to make light of. I think no less of you for feeling less than enthused about having to dive into it, especially considering the mess it made on our doorstep. I find it incredibly daunting, myself, considering the breadth, scope and scale of it all.”

“You,” Eggsy stared. “You, Harry Hart - Kingsman Agent Galahad with an office full of _Sun_ covers, a kick-arse brolly, who rose from the dead James Bond style, who _is_ James Bond - find World War Two daunting. You’re takin’ the _piss_.”

“I assure you otherwise,” he nodded earnestly. “You know, I once had to be obsessed with the American Civil War and found the entire affair ridiculously confusing. Odd, I know, considering how the entire conflict was technically only fought in one country. Opposed to the Great War’s multiple fronts on several campaigns and to say nothing of the Second! There’s the obvious military branches and individual movements of whole squadrons at any given time; the lead up to each successive action; the political motives threading throughout the entire thing; offense, defense, major players and allies… and that’s not even taking into account each country’s responses to specifics or the Holocaust or policy or –”

“Yeah, alright, I think I get it,” Eggsy looked slightly ill and overwhelmed, which wasn’t Harry’s intention at all.

“Start with the Great War,” he advised. “Not all of it, but understand the road to the Second and the factors involved. Get to know the players and motivations behind their actions, look at policies and military movements, even skim some of the major events. Don’t discount the culture of the time or the home front, because reactions are very important – even in today’s world. Break it down into manageable pieces and ask for assistance if you need to. I am, as always, at your disposal.”

“Was that how you worked through the American Civil War?” he tilted his head curiously.

“My American contacts helped more than I ever could have imagined,” Harry admitted. “That was mostly the problem, that I couldn’t quite understand Americans or their way of thought at the time. Even today’s Americans, to a degree. As for the conflict itself, I wasn’t actually required to go through the entire affair. I did, however, manage to retain quite a few things about Gettysburg and even had the chance to visit the actual battlefield itself.”

“I think I heard of that one. Was that the one where the entire battle was fought all over this one town?” Eggsy thought about it before lighting up. “Oh, yeah! Is it true that the entire place is haunted?”

“… I couldn’t tell you. It’s all how one interprets things, I suppose.”

Stray voices and ‘footsteps’ and creaky houses and unusual noises and odd lights could be explained away with ease.

The smell of smoke on a clear, quiet summer day was a bit more difficult to discount.

The feeling of being watched no matter where he went, mostly – _especially_ – when he was alone, however…

And Merlin kept swearing up and down even to this day of seeing faces in the shadows and both had been glad to see the back of the whole thing because their nerves were bloody _shot_ and –

“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t really put much stock in all that,” Eggsy mused. “Well, thanks for the advice, Haz,” he sprung up and, before Harry could respond, moved to peck him on the cheek. “I’m off. Wish me luck!”

Harry stared blankly at the opened door and the empty room, a wondering hand placed on the spot where Eggsy had kissed him.

After weeks of kisses on hands, did that count technically as a first kiss?

He couldn’t help beaming at the thought.

* **

Eggsy’s concern about his task ended up becoming moot: Once he’d started studying the Second World War, he became an expert virtually overnight.

Every time Harry came across him, the blond’s head was buried in a book about – primarily – the military aspects of the war.

Eggsy ate it all up with gusto, something he more than likely had never expected but something that Harry wasn’t surprised by.

The young Knight was – and always had been – interested in the action, turning his nose up at the policy and political motivation behind every military act.

Some of what he dug up came as a surprise to him to learn that he’d actually touched on some of what he was researching back as a Lancelot recruit.

He and Roxy would spend hours with their heads together and it wasn’t until Harry wandered over one afternoon that he found out just how one-sided the conversation actually was.

It was lunchtime and he was feeling as if he was going through withdrawal like Eggsy was some sort of drug, so he hadn’t thought it would hurt if he offered to take the blond out for a meal.

Being just where Harry suspected them to be, he approached Eggsy where he was speaking almost excitedly with hands dancing around to illustrate his words.

The pair had taken over one of the library tables at the estate and Harry could barely see the wooden surface under all the books, papers and maps littered over it. Not that he was concerned with the table when Eggsy’s glittering eyes and lit up expression had him spellbound.

Roxy was staring almost blankly at him, eyes glazed as Eggsy kept gesturing to one of the myriad of maps in front of them. Harry couldn’t blame her for being taken in by the force of Eggsy’s energy as he launched into an almost detailed by-play of what Harry assumed was a battle.

“- and then the Axis forces came in from here and – the leader was a bloody bastard, but he was fuckin’ _genius_ – Harry!”

He jolted out of his stupor as all of that attention was turned on him. “Um.”

“Hey, mate! Thought you’d hole up in your office for ages, yet,” he bounced up and grabbed him in a giant hug that had Harry feeling warm in both the chest and the face.

“I – ah – hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he managed, a glance at Roxy showing her glasses off and her fingers rubbing her temples in what looked like relief.

“Nah, you never are,” Eggsy beamed up at him as he swayed back slightly. “So, what brings you out of your cubby hole?”

“… lunch?” he asked lamely.

“Yes, please,” Roxy answered. “Take him out for the afternoon. You haven’t seen each other in ages.”

“I hardly think two weeks –”

“Wanna come with, Rox?” Eggsy twisted around to see her shaking her head. “I’m sure Harry won’t mind.”

“No, please, I’m fine,” she met Harry’s gaze and he blinked at her near desperation. “Just go out and enjoy yourselves. I have a few things I need to be looking into, myself, right now anyway.”

“Let us know if you want us to bring you back something,” Eggsy told her, almost bouncing in place. “Oh! I should ask Merlin if he wants something, too. Ain’t seen him all week.”

Eggsy was gone before Harry could remind him that he had his glasses and could just call him, but maybe he would be able to work off some of that energy he’d collected.

“Thank _Christ,_ he’s gone,” Roxy’s outburst had Harry turning back to her with a confused frown. “I’m serious,” she added. “I mean, have you seen all of this?” she swept a hand out to indicate the cluttered table. “Two weeks, since he’s started, and he’s already got the entire Pacific Theatre _memorized_.”

“Pacific –”

“I don’t even know how he’s come up with all of this! I can’t keep up with him, because he bounces around before I can even come up with the question I want to ask and he’s already five books ahead of me by the time I can think! It’s _ridiculous_ with the rate he’s going. I know some of it already, but even I had trouble trying to keep the islands straight without tossing the Americans in and everything else. Him, on the other hand; he’s been reading entire books cover to cover and –”

“Now, just a moment,” Harry hated to interrupt, but, “I thought he was supposed to cover England and the European Theatre. Not the Americans in the Pacific.”

“He is,” she confirmed. “He’s supposed to really concentrate on the European Theatre and all of that – I’m not entirely certain if he needs to know very much about the Holocaust, but I suppose it can’t really hurt -, but he apparently called up the lads and they decided to watch _Pearl Harbor_ and that kicked it off.”

“But he will come around to the other half of the war?”

“Eventually, I think, once he’s exhausted the Pacific. Going about it all backwards, I know,” she smiled slightly, “but he’s really interested in how our Allies were conducting things while events were happening in Europe and I’m not quite sure where the interest is coming from.”

“Regardless, he seems very much excited about it,” he smiled back.

“Yes, a bit much so. I offered my help, because I sincerely thought he would need someone to talk this through, but he doesn’t need it. Now, I really do need to take care of things, but I just didn’t want to – to disrupt him while he’s on such a good streak.”

“I’ll take care of it for you, Lancelot,” he offered. “I have time.”

“You’re going to possibly regret that, but thank you. Sincerely,” she looked like she was in need of a good nap in a darkened room.

“Think nothing of it,” he waved her gratitude away. Roxy did have a habit of challenging herself and she possibly decided to challenge herself with Eggsy, only to be steamrolled right over in his excitement. She didn’t want to admit defeat, so she most certainly had to be fighting a severe headache if she was easily giving over to Harry. “We’ll be in contact should you decide to have us bring something back.”

“You know, maybe I will just to keep him out longer.”

A ping on his glasses was Eggsy summoning him to the bullet train and Harry gladly went, Roxy possibly more glad to have them gone.

* **


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Ah ha! Thought I forgot the second chapter did you?
> 
> This one's a longer chapter.
> 
> And if anyone gets an idea to, oh, I dunno, write a story about what you might read here - doesn't have to be long or anything -, I wouldn't mind. Because if anyone has the urge to write their own AU about these two after reading this chapter, you are more than welcome to it. 
> 
> (Except for one, which has already been done - go read 'we happy few' by futuredescending. It's a very good story.)
> 
> *woe-is-me kitty eyes*
> 
> See you Monday!

* * *

Eggsy did eventually get around to the European Theatre, though Harry couldn’t say the blond was all too excited about it.

Harry wasn’t able to be present during that month – Merlin’s regular reports about Eggsy were laced with impressed surprise at the rate the blond was going, Harry filled with pride at the same -, but he did speak with Eggsy and got the impression that the young Knight wasn’t enjoying it as much.

 _‘It’s not that I don’t really like it, Harry,’_ he insisted one lunch time call. _‘It’s… I dunno. Unsettling, I guess. A lot of the lads… I been readin’ some of their stories and… can’t help thinkin’ how much I might’ve liked some of them.’_

“Yes, I’m sure you would have,” he expected nothing less from him. He smiled at his lunch, “It’s understandable that you would have empathy for them, because it’s… how did you put it? The privileged in their ivory towers and the common masses as cannon fodder?”

 _‘Yeah, kinda like that, I guess,’_ there was a smile in his voice. _‘You’re different, though. You listen and … a lot of other things. Anyway, I guess it’s not much of a surprise to be feelin’ like this, is it? I mean, right, it… it could’ve been me out there. I could’ve been fightin’ and I would have people back home to worry about – what with the Blitz and all – and I’d be missin’ everything from – from vegetables to, I dunno, grass of all bloody things.’_

Harry was brought up short at the memory of a midnight conversation in front of a window overlooking the estate lawn. “You know, I can see you there,” he voiced softly, imagining Eggsy amongst squad mates. He would clown around and make friends with that bright smile and he would adopt everyone he could – only to be the one grieving the hardest of them all when they were lost. But despite that, despite the pranks he’d no doubt pull, the frustration he’d no doubt inspire in all his superiors - despite the deep longing he would have for home and how hopeless everything would seem  -, he would tuck away who he really was in order to do the job.

No matter what.

 _‘Maybe you’d be a Kingsman Agent, even back then,’_ Eggsy couldn’t help responding. _‘One of the spies. Yeah, I could see that.’_

“Who would say if I wasn’t?” he smiled warmly. “I could be a tailor, you know. An actual tailor, perhaps working with spies to keep their cover. I could be a tutor to help train spies, while I was at it, because knowledge and experience is more important than being out there myself.”

_‘Or you could be that butterfly person you wanted to be, who can’t stand war and had an injury and couldn’t join up, but you had to do somethin’ so you’d be my penpal to keep me goin’.’_

And wouldn’t that have been something?

“Then at the very end of the war, I could finally collect that elusive butterfly that was constantly flitting about in my dreams.”

Eggsy was quiet for a long moment, then, _‘Bet it would be special, wouldn’t it?’_

“He would have the place of highest honour, being my prized find.”

That was possibly the closest he felt comfortable with, telling him before he truly felt ready to say it.

 _‘Know what?’_ his voice was impossibly warm. _‘I bet that butterfly would be real chuffed to know he was a prized find for anything.’_

“Of course,” Harry easily agreed. “I don’t offer to be a penpal for just anyone, you know. Stationary is expensive enough, as it is.”

 _‘Sure, you would have fancy, posh writing paper when just a notecard would do,’_ Eggsy huffed a fond laugh.

“And you had any doubts? I have a butterfly to impress, after all.”

_‘Oh, come off it. Butterflies don’t care about what the flower looks like, long as there is one.’_

“But I don’t want to be just _any_ run-of-the-mill plant. I want to be remembered.”

_‘You couldn’t be any run-of-the-mill anything, even if you tried. And sure, you’d be remembered. As the posh git with the trillion-pound clothes and ridiculous stationary sent to a boy who don’t care about what the letter’s written on, so long as he gets a letter to start with. I might not have anyone else, so it’ll be up to you to keep me in the loop about things.’_

“And it would be my honour to do so.”

A warmth filled him as Eggsy continued to tease.

That night, he couldn’t help dreaming of being ‘just a tailor’ and writing long winded letters to a soldier he’d never met and waiting impatiently to remedy that, worrying himself sick pouring over news reports and trying desperately to figure out locations relative to Eggsy’s last known campsite.

To be honest, there really wasn’t much of a difference to reality, but it was nice to dream.

* **

Harry’s mission went flawlessly – as a majority of them did – and Eggsy and Roxy were dispatched to their own mission with all they needed to pull their covers off.

The multi-month mission was off to a beautiful start and Harry constantly pestered Merlin for updates.

He couldn’t quite bring himself to contact Eggsy directly, for fear of being a distraction and throwing them off completely, but Roxy had easily built semi-regular contact into Eggsy’s cover without suspicion.

She’d been vague and encouraged ideas about Eggsy contacting his editor or research partner or something and Merlin took advantage of that. Or maybe Roxy had meant for multiple people to call under the guise of multiple reasons, Harry didn’t know.

It was over a month before Eggsy made direct contact with Harry himself.

He was in his home office, scowling at old field reports he’d dug out of the Kingsman archives with a half full glass of something nice and dark at his elbow, when he heard the _ping_ on his glasses and immediately put his pen down to answer. “Galahad.”

_‘Harry?’_

He straightened in concern. “Eggsy? Is everything alright?”

There was a beat of silence before he answered, tone uncertain, _‘Yeah. Sorry, I just – this was stupid. Sorry for bothering you.’_

“Wait! Wait. Eggsy? I’m glad you called,” Harry smiled slightly. “I was starting to forget what you sounded like.”

As if he could.

He missed talking to him whenever he felt like it. Missed his wit and sarcasm and even his lamentable habit of calling him names like ‘mate’ or ‘Haz’.

 _‘Gettin’ on in years, yeah?’_ there it was, that thread of amusement.

“Perhaps. It’s bedtime over there, though,” he frowned, checking to make sure. “Is something wrong?”

Eggsy was quiet for a long time. _‘Can’t sleep. Sounds stupid, ya know? Me callin’ you just ‘cause I had a bad dream and don’ wanta go back to sleep. Sounds –’_

“- perfectly normal to me,” Harry finished, sitting back in his chair and sipping from his tumbler. “You know, Merlin is the one I go to when I can’t sleep.”

 _‘Yeah?’_ he didn’t sound so self-deprecating, curiosity coming to the fore. _‘When you can’t sleep on missions? What do you talk about?’_

“Mm, anything, really,” he considered. “Whatever comes to mind. Sometimes, how the others are faring or the usual gossip.”

_‘And what about when you ain’t on missions and you can’t sleep?’_

“Well, I used to … deal with it as best I could,” he smiled wryly and lifted his glass up to the light, the rich, deep amber mesmerizing. “It’s different now, of course.”

_‘Yeah? Why’s that?’_

“Because I have more friends,” he tilted his head. “One of them is of the habit of tracking me down and distracting me from my old ways, but I can’t imagine being upset with him. Especially since it’s no longer simply friendship I regard him with.”

 _‘Good,’_ he was smiling and Harry couldn’t help smiling back. _‘You need new habits that don’t start and end with alcohol. This friend of yours is doin’ a pretty damn good job with himself, yeah?’_

“I’ll be sure to tell him you approve. But now it’s your turn. You have quite the imagination and I’m sure you would know what keeps me up at night, but I can’t say the same in this case.”

He heard a heavy sigh. _‘I don’t know. Before you say anythin’, I really don’t know. I – Bloody hell, it’s almost one and Rox isn’t back yet. What in the world can they be –’_

“Eggsy. You’re deflecting.”

_‘Right. Sorry. I just… I went to sleep, right? Then I woke up and… I didn’t want to go back to sleep. I don’t remember the dream, swear down, it’s just… dunno. The things I got from the dream.’_

Ah, one of those dreams.

“It’s quite a bit more common than you might think. What feelings or impressions did you take away from it?”

It was a long time before he got an answer.

_‘It was… a lot of different things, I guess? You know, like… Like that crash that comes after a really fuckin’ intense mission? There was adrenalin, I think, and definitely uncertain… There’s just a lot and some I can’t even explain. There’s definitely me bein’ nervous about somethin’ really, really big. And sc-scared and – and then there’s this… I can’t – longing? Longing for somethin’ and knowin’ I’ll never get it. But it’s mostly bein’ scared. And I don’t know why I’m scared, but I am and I don’t want to sleep because I don’t want to see what happens when I do.’_

Harry sipped thoughtfully from his glass. “You may not see what happens next. Dreams have no set timeline and it’s more likely that it’s just something you’ve been dealing with in the waking world that’s followed you to your dreams. Maybe it’s the mission? It could be an idea… what have you.”

_‘The most contagious thing is an idea. Ideas come in through the conscious and settles in your mind like a parasite.’_

“Very astute,” he blinked. “And accurate. You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He hoped to never find the end of them.

 _‘It’s from a movie about dreams I saw with my mates, maybe a year ago, I think. I can see that, if I look at it that way,’_ he mused. Harry didn’t know what he was talking about, but he was glad to be of some help. _‘Maybe it’s an idea that I got from all those bloody War books or something.’_

“And it’s found a burrow in your dreams, this parasite of yours. Sadly, there’s really nothing you can do about that. Most dreams of that sort go away on their own.”

 _‘Maybe for you,’_ Eggsy told him. _‘But I don’t – there was something… Somethin’ **different** ‘bout this dream. I had dreams before, but it ain’t nothin’ like that.’_

“Different how?”

 _‘Well,’_ he paused, trying to order his thoughts. _‘It … all that stuff I was feelin’? It kind of… it was almost like I could feel it real deep. I… like I felt it really deep inside.’_

“I see,” Harry thought for a long moment. “You know, there is a phrase and I’m sure you might have come across it a time or two, but I’ve always found it a bit of a romantic notion. ‘Right down to the soul’. Something affects you so deeply, it literally feels as if there’s a mark on your very soul.”

_‘Yeah, that. It – it really felt like it – like it really could’ve been that deep.’_

“Do you have any idea what might have caused it?”

 _‘No,’_ he sounded absolutely certain of that, at least. _‘Never felt like that before. An’, yeah, a lot of things could’ve turned up that way from things I don’t need to tell you about since you prolly know, anyway, but I can’t think of anything that… that big, right? ‘Right down to the soul’, you said. I mean, I done a lot of things, but I never thought any of them could be that deep. That’s why this dream is different from all the other ones I’ve had. It really feels ‘right down to the soul’ and I shouldn’t have it. ‘cause nothin’ that big has ever happened to me.’_

“It doesn’t necessarily have to be a big event,” he pointed out. “Even the smallest thing – like a scent – can make the strongest impression.”

_‘Well, other than you and that medal, I can’t think of anything.’_

It was probably a moot point, anyway.

“Or maybe it was the connection you made with those soldiers whose lives you were allowed to glimpse in and it might have affected you more than you realize. Those feelings became your feelings and your subconscious simply ran away with it.”

Truthfully, Harry saw no other explanation and it was just as good as any.

“Personally, I didn’t ever experience anything of that magnitude,” he admitted. “The dream, I mean, and simply from the mission’s cover subject. But I did have a dream once about butterflies and kittens. It was a peaceful sort of dream, though I couldn’t tell you how it came to be. I’ve never had a feline of any sort all throughout my life.”

 _‘Maybe you just saw a cute picture of a cat chasing a butterfly,’_ Eggsy mused. _‘Maybe my dream was the same.’_

“That must have been it,” he agreed. “On both counts.”

Eggsy ruminated over it a bit longer as he fit that in with the countless other bits of trivia he was wont to collect, probably ready to pull it all out as a reference or something when he needed it for some future mission.

Harry really was very proud of the talented Kingsman Agent Eggsy had become.

“Do you think you can sleep now?” he broke the silence.

_‘Dunno. I still think I should wait up for Roxy to get back. Are you doin’ anything important?’_

“Not quite, but I will most certainly welcome your company as long as you feel the need.”

_‘But you’re still doin’ something? Is it one of those classified things you’re supposed to say ‘In a hypothetical situation…’ and then I’m supposed to get somethin’ from that?’_

“No,” he smiled slightly. “Not quite. Out of curiosity, I went digging into the Archives to find WWII era reports to see what the Agents were up to.”

 _‘Oh?’_ he could imagine Eggsy sitting up in interest. _‘So, what’d you find?’_

“Honestly?” he let the scowl return as his gaze landed on the files in question. “It’s a wonder the war ended at _all_. Bloody hell, you should see some of these antics. Has _Merlin_ seen some of these? I’m in the process of ‘taking the red pen’ to them, you could say, and I have every intention of bringing them to his attention so he can incorporate them into future recruitment trials.”

Eggsy gave a low whistle. _‘Someone must’ve fucked up if they’ve got Agent Galahad ready to tear them to shreds.’_

“Yes, including ‘Agent Galahad’ himself. I’ve never been so disgusted with my own title before and I’ve never been so ashamed to call myself a Kingsman in my life!”

_‘Come off it. None of it can be that bad.’_

“Oh, I beg to differ,” he retrieved one file in particular. “The worst part is the man hadn’t been any anomaly, which would have made it more bearable. All of the Knights active during the Second World War had the most –” he struggled for something to fit, “- deplorable practices and it’s a wonder any of them survived! For fuck’s sake, they’re the ones we’re supposed to look up to? Half the table would’ve been long buried by now – including the replacement Agents two times over – This isn’t a laughing matter, Eggsy! This is serious.”

The barely restrained laughter filtered through the connection and Harry was pleased to know his earlier troubles were all but forgotten, but this was a dire matter that needed fixing somehow and laughter didn’t help matters.

He went on to extol what virtues a Kingsman Agent was supposed to have and what the Second World War Agents lacked and waved a file in the air as if Eggsy was laughing in front of him.

“Eggsy!” he finally sighed in exasperation. “Please. As a Kingsman Agent, I beg of you.”

It took a few minutes before the blond finally got a hold of himself and Harry could imagine him wiping tears from his eyes. _‘Right. Sorry. Okay. So, what is it that these traitors to Kingsman’s good name did in the spirit of the mission?’_

He was being humoured, he was well aware of that, but no matter.

“Some of them still did things whether they were on missions or not – and, yes, I am aware of the hypocrisy of bringing that up, but as least _I_ would have done it better.”

_‘Oh, you would, would you? Let’s have it then. Dazzle me.’_

“You might be glib right now, but I assure you it will not last. Not even you would’ve let them go off and do some of these things in such a manner. Percival’s file, for instance. Listen to this…”

* **

There were a handful more of Eggsy’s late night calls (his time) and a few more ‘red pen’ sessions with the Second World War Agents in the firing line.

 _‘You know, Haz,’_ he mused on one such occasion, _‘I get the feelin’ you hold your predecessors to a high standard what with all the crap you’re givin’ him.’_

“I hold all the Knights to a high standard, _especially_ the predecessors. My own title holder should’ve known better and it’s a wonder that Private hadn’t shot his arse when he had the chance. He would’ve been chiefly within his rights to do so!”

_‘And get court martialed or something? No thanks. Maybe he should’ve decked the sod and claimed to be saving his life.’_

“I am happy to say I strongly suspect that exact series of events,” he grinned darkly. “If that Galahad possessed any amount of sense, he’d have snapped the man up as a Kingsman asset as soon as possible.”

 _‘Maybe the Private was,’_ Eggsy pointed out. _‘I mean, isn’t he the same one that other you kept running into every so often?’_

“Yes, I think so. From what I’m seeing, he had the oddest ability to be exactly where Galahad needed to be or needed a cover for.”

_‘His unit was probably under the ‘company’ and not a one of them even knew it.’_

Considering they both worked for the ‘company’, it was not outside the realm of possibility.

*

Eventually, though, Eggsy and Roxy wrapped up their mission with all the finesse and professionalism that Harry had expected of them.

“Good to be home?” he smiled down at the blond spread out on the lawn, newly released for at least a couple weeks’ downtime.

“You’ve no idea,” Eggsy groaned, laying in the sun as if he was a cat. “Think I’ll just sleep here a tic.”

“You can, you know. I’ll see if we can set up an umbrella for you.”

“Shut up,” an eye squinted at him. “You’re having me on.”

“I am not. There, see?” he nodded at a few of the staff trotting toward them with a roomy lawn umbrella in tow.

“Would’ve been nice to have known that ages ago,” Eggsy grumbled, settling back down.

“I’ll leave you to your nap, then.”

Harry didn’t get a response and hadn’t expected one, but he made his way back inside with a lighter step after knowing Eggsy was safe and within walking distance.

* **

It’s not until a month later – after Eggsy’s downtime, a handful of dates and a boring mission – that Eggsy has the chance to go on a solo mission.

Harry wasn’t in the least worried, knowing Eggsy would complete the mission as he’d done so many times before.

“I’m not worried,” Eggsy agreed, frowning down at the file. “It’s just… I’m gonna have to stick around to be sure when everything’s done. What am I gonna do for a week?”

“Well,” Harry studied the details thoughtfully. “You could… Ah, you wouldn’t be too far from Normandy and I seem to remember how much you enjoyed the Second World War. Would you be interested in going to Normandy and playing tourist?”

“That’s an idea!” Eggsy lit up. “I think the Royal Marines even saw action in Normandy. I should look into that.”

As the Americans would say, ‘Once a Marine, Always a Marine’, and Harry always had observed the sort of loyalty towards one’s former Military assignation that reached across international lines. Since Eggsy had once been a Royal Marine, it was only natural that he went to honour those that came before him.

“A sound idea,” he approved.

“You ever been to Normandy?” Eggsy wanted to know.

Harry thought about that. “Not on long trips, I’m afraid. And the ones I did take were part of the mission, somehow, so I didn’t get to pay attention.”

“Alright, then,” he nodded. “Let’s plan a trip like we’re both goin’ and I’ll send you lots of pictures so you can feel like you’re there, too.”

Harry couldn’t explain just how much he adored the blond for thinking about the two of them, instead nodding wordlessly as he pulled up activities on his tablet for Eggsy to look into while wasting time in Normandy and the two of them got to work.

Harry would always remember this as the first of many times they planned for ‘tourist trips’ regardless of which of them were going. He would always remember the suggestions, the banter, the light hearted laughter, the bright grins tossed his way.

He would remember the warmth and the love he felt and the silent vow that he was never going to hurt him again for the rest of either of their lives.

And he would remember all of that, because he would’ve done anything to go back and stop that thrice-damned suggestion from leaving his lips.

* * *

 

End Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'm not sure if you've ever had 'the red pen' treatment or some variation thereof, but I'm sorry if it brought back bad memories. :(
> 
> AN2: Sincerest Congratulations to Harry and Meghan on their marriage. Which is going to be covered on every channel I'm *not* going to be watching tomorrow. 
> 
> (Any Harvey/Mike fans out there?)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's your Monday update. Enjoy!

* * *

Harry saw Eggsy off on his mission and focused on himself.

He ran errands and visited the Kingsman facilities for physical activities and mission prep for the next two missions that would go back to back.

Eggsy would send a text now and then, to let him know how things were going, and Harry would respond back with similar sentiments.

Days and weeks came and went and Harry was glad to have some sign that Eggsy was thinking about him because he was thinking of the younger Knight almost constantly.

He was debating putting in a request for a mission with the blond just to ease the ~~longing~~ ~~withdrawal~~ general malaise he was having to box into a corner for the sake of the mission. It would be so much easier if he had more exposure to him and he was confident that he’d be back to rights afterward.

He’d almost forgotten about the Normandy trip until Eggsy sent him a picture of himself in front of a sign and he smiled at the thumbs up.

The pictures came in streams and batches, with accompanying texts full of sass and everything Harry missed about contact with Eggsy.

The blond had even gone to the American Cemetery and Memorial and Harry spent an untold amount of time staring at the rows of graves.

All of the Crosses – even a few Stars dotted around – had someone buried there.

Being a spy was one thing, but seeing the price of what could happen if he screwed up – if _any_ of them screwed up – was sobering.

Wars had multiple fronts.

Harry just forgot that, sometimes.

He knew that he was fighting a war on one such front, but it was easy to forget that the front lines that he – Eggsy, Merlin, Roxy, all of them in international spy agencies all across the globe – fought on directly affected all the others.

Seeing it…

Seeing it, even like this… it was something else.

A monument to some great battle against an enemy that was meant to remind everyone of what was truly at stake. Of what the consequences were should that be forgotten.

Yet, unfortunately, Harry couldn’t help thinking that no monument anywhere of any size could truly prevent people from forgetting.

And that, too, was sobering.

And sad and it made him want to shake people and demand that they take one good look at all the lives that were lost in _one_ battle so that they could be who they were today.

One battle that turned the tide of a war.

A fight that - on the darker days when the blood and the nightmares and the memories got the better of him - he couldn’t be sure was actually over.

Seeing those lines and rows of gravestones should mean something to the world.

Harry was afraid to wonder if it truly did.

‘Lessons hard learned,’ he wrote back on a large picture. ‘That, however, does not mean it is remembered.’

 **“Fucking shame, innit?”** the response came back. **“All these lads and what they sacrificed and no one really remembers what they even fought for anymore.”**

‘But we do. For what that’s worth.’

**“Yeah, ‘cause if we fuck up, this is what’s gonna happen.”**

Harry remembered one day, years ago, in a hotel room and the scenes playing out on the television screen. His flight – as well as thousands of others – had been grounded in the days following.

He’d had absolutely no connection with what happened, but he took it for the lesson it was.

He had visited the 9/11 Memorial a few years ago, before V-Day and before Eggsy.

All he could think was that someone had failed all of those people. There were times he’d been convinced that he was the one who’d missed something else, like with Lee Unwin.

What was the point of it – of the work they did – if events like 9/11 happened anyway? If things like mass casualty events, in a desperate attempt to turn a war, were so easily forgotten?

Those were the times that he desperately wished to turn back the clock and make his younger self turn his attention to those butterflies that had so enamoured him.

Sometimes, he wondered if bringing Eggsy into this was a mistake.

Other times, he didn’t care as long as Eggsy was by his side.

‘Then I suggest you remember this and not ‘fuck up’,’ he wrote back.

**“Same goes for you, mate. Not even a tailor for ten years and already I’ve got stories to tell.”**

That was a mess that neither wanted to touch, not right now and probably not ever.

They’d already said what had needed to be said and that was, for now, enough.

‘Speaking of stories, I hear there’s a mission coming up for two Agents. Would you be interested?’

He got a happy face emoji and a heart.

That answered that question.

Another emoji appeared to blowing a kiss and he couldn’t help feeling slightly warm around the cheeks.

Honestly, he had no earthly idea how he was going to take it when – if –  their relationship ever moved further than kisses.

He couldn’t stop himself from being excited to find out.

* **

Harry wasn’t there when Eggsy returned from Normandy with the main mission successfully completed, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway since Eggsy was sent right back out for assistance with another Knight.

Harry’s own missions ran for longer than he liked and _he_ was sent right back out again, too.

They still talked and texted – Eggsy even managing to drop by Harry’s house to leave him a note because Harry had once mentioned how he’d often wondered what it was like to have a ‘love note’ waiting for him at home. Eggsy, understandably, just had to fix that and Harry would get back from missions to find little notes all over his office both at the estate and his own home and the shop.

Of course, romantic that he was, Harry was obliged to do the same for Eggsy and it went on like this for a bit before Harry stopped suddenly in front of a familiar window at the estate when he realized that he and Eggsy hadn’t seen each other for _months_.

If one wasn’t out on missions, the other was.

“Merlin?” he tapped his glasses and frowned out at the estate’s massive lawn. “When was the last time Eggsy was here?”

_‘Two weeks ago. The lad should be coming back sometime this week.’_

“I think we’re both due for some time off, wouldn’t you say?”

_‘Aye, that’s actually what I was about to call you about.’_

“Oh?” this was the first he’d heard of it.

 _‘Both of you need to be taken off roster for a spell so the other Agents can get their hours in,’_ Merlin sounded amused. _‘The lad did say to keep an eye out for any duo Agent missions, but I keep tellin’ him that there’s nothing out, yet. Don’t suppose you know about this mission I’ve yet to hear about?’_

“Wishful thinking, perhaps,” he didn’t elaborate. “Has he been requesting missions, otherwise?” they both knew that Eggsy took this job very seriously, but Harry felt a flicker of concern because he’d never intended the boy to run himself into the ground.

_‘Not all of them. Mostly he’s running back up and such for some of the other Agents we have out. Some have been solo, but not very much action. Probably waiting for that mission the two of you have your eyes set on.’_

“Keep us informed when that mission comes about, would you? Haven’t had a good fight in ages. I suspect you’d like some excitement, yourself.”

_‘Can’t argue with that, Harry. Watching all the Agents fight is definitely a highlight, but I’ve not seen the two of you for a while.’_

Harry saw his reflection smile slightly.

It was almost a year before Merlin could run Harry’s missions again, after Harry woke up the second time.

It hadn’t been until then that he realized that he and Eggsy hadn’t been the only ones that damned Church screwed up.

He’d taken Merlin out for dinner to see if they needed to talk about it and they did, though they didn’t really need to say very much. They’d been friends for too long to need a long conversation.

Eggsy – dear, surprising, observant Eggsy – came up to Harry that next afternoon and casually said, ‘Good. I was wonderin’ if I needed to lock you two in a vault or somethin’ with a ticking bomb.’

‘It’s not _that_ kind of movie,’ Harry had absently responded, only belatedly realizing the words he’d said.

‘It would’ve been,’ Eggsy cut into his thoughts like a hot knife through butter, ‘if you and Merlin kept dancin’ around the problem.’

‘Well, you’d be interested to know that the situation is under control.’

‘And _you’d_ be interested to know that I’m keepin’ the vault idea for later. Just in case.’

Harry expected nothing less.

“Wouldn’t want to disappoint you, then,” he told his reflection as Merlin hummed in his ear.

_‘Well, the pair of you will need to recharge your batteries to give me a show, then. No arguments, Galahad.’_

“I shall take my mandatory downtime like a gentleman,” he assured.

The laughter he got in response should probably have been an insult, but, to be fair, the Black Prince Incident was on the lower end of the scale of what he’d done on his downtime.

*

Harry was in his office at the estate when the door opened and a long missed figure slinked in to drop tiredly in a chair.

“Hey, Haz,” Eggsy smiled wanly. “Almost forgot what you look like.”

As if Harry could forget what Eggsy looked like, though he didn’t remember the tiredness ringing eyes constantly changing from blue to green or some colour Harry didn’t know the name of. The young Knight looked like he’d gone a week without sleep and had the purple smudges to prove it.

“I’m not sure you’ll remember this, either,” he leaned back with a frown. “You look like you’ll wake up and we’ll be having this conversation again.”

“Well, I have at least a month’s worth of downtime to catch up on it, huh?” he grinned, tired enough that the smile didn’t reach his eyes like it normally would.

“Mm,” Harry rubbed his own eyes with a sigh. “You must be ecstatic about the vacation,” he glanced up again.

Eggsy gave a smaller smile and a nod. “Yeah. I think it’s my turn to owe you a date.”

“Oh, yes,” he blinked unthinkingly. “We’re dating now, aren’t we?”

The room was silent before he realized what he said and how it could be taken and panic filled him as he looked at Eggsy’s wide-eyed expression.

“No! I – Of course, I didn’t forget about – I couldn’t – it’s just –”

Eggsy just tipped his head back and laughed.

Harry watched him anxiously as he kept laughing for an uncalled for amount of time before Eggsy tapered off in chuckles.

“I missed you,” he wiped his eyes. “But, seriously, Haz, I do get it. It ain’t ever been this easy with anyone else, you know?” the laughter did him good, his ever-changing eyes now bright and soft. “Hell, just the other day, I felt guilty for thinkin’ ‘bout you ‘til I remembered we was together now. It’s just… so easy, right? Nothing’s changed.”

Why would he be thinking – oh.

Harry was far from a prude, but he felt his face warming and Eggsy’s smile soften even further somehow. “Well,” he cleared his throat. “It’s good to know I’m not the only one forgetting things.”

“Yeah, you probably need sleep, too. Maybe more, yeah?” he teased.

“I’ve had a regular schedule of it,” but that didn’t mean it was completely peaceful while Eggsy was off doing his own job and the smallest thoughts morphed into panic-stricken nightmares. Hopefully, his sleep will now be better now that Eggsy was right in front of him alive and whole.

“Don’t look like you had enough of it,” Eggsy swept a gaze up and down the visible parts of Harry’s body. “You could doze off right here and not give a damn.”

“Except when I wake up, of course. Perhaps we could both use sleep, but I do have to finish this.”

“Already done all mine soon as I could,” Eggsy told him. “I’m gonna sit here til you finish, if you don’t mind.”

“I would enjoy the company,” he smiled reassuringly. He’d gone for long enough without Eggsy in his presence and he would just as sooner step foot back in Kentucky than refuse what was freely offered.

It also occurred to him, as he went back to work with the prickling awareness of being watched, that Eggsy missed being with him just as much as he did Eggsy.

The younger man just sat there as he worked, tired gaze never moving from him as a half hour passed. It was almost like he was drinking him in or memorizing that moment – Harry wasn’t quite ready to think about why Eggsy would until he’d gotten a few more hours of sleep - and words just weren’t needed.

It was unusual to have the blond not chattering into his ear all the time, but it was surprisingly just what he needed as his mind started to understand that he was on enforced downtime. It was rare that such a thing happened – and relatively quickly, too, ahead of the at least three hour period post-last report – and it was alright as long as Eggsy was there.

Even with having actual eyes present to watch his every move, and despite every attempt of stretching the time out, Harry eventually had to stop as he ran out of things to do.

“Well,” he finally folded his hands on the desk and gave Eggsy a small smile. “I am, evidently, all caught up at present.”

“A day for the records, I’m sure,” Eggsy couldn’t resist the quip.

It was, after all, well known that timing to Agent Galahad was more of a – now how did that movie line go? Ah – was more of a ‘set of guidelines than actual rules.’

In his defense regarding the report he’d meant to turn in three and a half years ago, well, head injuries would do that.

Regardless, every report was – eventually – turned in to the appropriate hands and everyone was satisfied.

“I’m sure Merlin is marking the calendar as we speak,” Harry agreed. “Now, I do believe we both have a shuttle to catch.”

“I’m gonna have to get back to you on that date,” Eggsy levered himself up as Harry collected his things. “Got things to do right now.”

“Yes, as do I. What day is it? Oh, it’s Wednesday. I’m going to busy for the next two days or so, tending to things I’ve neglected to take care of, but let me know if you’d like to meet up … mm, we’ll say Friday night? I’ll have a better idea of where things stand by then.”

“Sounds right,” Eggsy nodded, waiting by the door for Harry to shut down his laptop, turn off the light and lock the door. “I’ll let you know by then. Though, it really should be me schedulin’ this.”

“Don’t worry, the next date is all yours, but I’ve not had the chance to visit a favorite restaurant and I seem to recall having promised to take you there. While I’m thinking about it and we’re both free – hopefully -, I’ll take the opportunity to invite you.”

“I think you’re doin’ it backwards,” he pointed out as they headed to the shuttle train. “Usually, you ask, ‘Are you free for dinner on Friday?’ Then I’ll say, ‘Yes.’”

“Ah, but we have quite a way to go between now and then and I wouldn’t be so presumptuous as to plan ahead too quickly.”

“But at least there’d be somethin’ to look forward to.”

“There would be, at that.”

They made it to the train without running into anyone, and finding it strange until Harry really looked at the time, and settled in for the ride.

The ride back to the tailor shop was filled with a comfortable silence as Harry couldn’t resist doing his own drinking in of the young Knight in front of him. He still looked tired, but he looked like he could fall asleep at any time as he stared back.

He was still in his suit, a brown suit with a light blue tie that looked similar to one Harry himself owned. The tie even had the same diagonal dark green stripe in the middle.

Oh, that reminded him.

He needed to do laundry and take the Closet Inventory, as Merlin affectionately called it. Just the other day, the Handler casually commented that Harry had yet to inventory Eggsy’s closet or direct him in doing so.

Personally, Harry didn’t think the young man needed to do it, but that was possibly something he could advise at a later date.

While the Closet Inventory had been going for years, Harry had to admit that it calmed him somewhat to know what he had and it also helped to make sure he could remember what he had and what he lost in the day to day tasks of being a Kingsman Agent.

“Harry. We’re here.”

“What?” he looked up with a sluggish blink and noted the open door.

“Guess you’re more tired than we thought, yeah?” Eggsy was almost kneeling in front of him with a slight worry in his eyes.

“Let’s share a cab,” he invited, rubbing his eyes as he made himself get up.

“Of course,” Eggsy agreed.

The blond stayed close as they made their way into and through the shop, outside and into a waiting cab.

The ride to Harry’s house first – which he was going to remind himself to be upset about later; he’s the one who always dropped Eggsy off before leaving for his own place – was a blur as he let the tiredness sink in with every step in a well-honed routine.

He didn’t even remember tipping himself into bed.

* **


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay, I absolutely *swear* this isn't a hint of any kind - and this has no connection to this story -, but have you ever written something that you personally adore to a degree beyond words? And you're convinced that you're pretty much the only one who adores it, then suddenly you get this anon comment that just makes your entire week and you can't stop smiling and tearing up because they said so many good things about your work? 
> 
> That's the high I'm riding right now. 
> 
> The subject matter's still kind of sensitive, which is why I guess not a lot of people might not be interested in it, and it's an 'Elementary' story to boot, but I'm happy that there are people still reading it.
> 
> This has no connection at all to this story, but I just wanted to tell people! Your comments matter! Us authors are reading them and flailing and feeling warm fuzzies, so thank you for being our readers.
> 
> Ahem, right. 
> 
> Enjoy your last update of the week and I'll see you Monday.
> 
> To my fellow Americans: Have a safe Memorial Holiday weekend! Which I did not think about when I wrote/posted the last chapter. That would've fit perfectly.

* * *

The next day was dealing with the laundry he needed to take care of and pick up and he was digging through his closet when he realized just why it bothered him that the third hook on the left was empty.

His crimson robe was gone.

He stared at it for a long time, trying to remember if he’d brought it with him and if it had been left in the laundry he still needed to do or if he’d accidently brought it to the dry cleaners again.

Eggsy still wouldn’t let him forget that mix-up, joking about even needing to give his less posh stuff the posh treatment.

Harry was sincerely wondering whether Merlin ever told him about the whole month he’d brought his red robe to the dry cleaners and realized it in the middle of a mission or the time he’d accidently sent his entire wardrobe to the dry cleaners – _including_ the ‘less posh’ items because he’d broken them in and didn’t want to waste energy on doing it again.

He gave a heavy sigh and decided to wait until he took care of all his laundry before chasing down random items that were probably waiting for the wash, anyway.

* *

The robe was not in the wash.

Nor at the dry cleaners.

Or even in his house.

And in the course of that discovery, it was also revealed that other things were gone, too.

There was a set of onyx cufflinks; a handful of ties; three tee shirts; two cardigans; one jumper; and two pocket squares missing in action.

He was fairly certain he’d left them out of his more strenuous missions, so that couldn’t have been the reason for the disappearances.

He hadn’t left them around the house or he would have already found them thanks to that cleaning spree.

Well, unless he had and forgotten it all.

Strange. He’d thought his memory had been improving.

No matter.

He was just going to have to go back to the shop and –

That tie Eggsy had been wearing…

And the notes he’d been leaving…

As pleased as he was at the thought that Eggsy had missed him enough to want to keep something of his close, he was slightly perturbed that Eggsy was – might be – stealing his clothing in order to do so.

Goodness, if the blond had wanted his clothing, all he really had to do was ask. Harry would gladly let him have the run of his wardrobe any time he liked – he frankly preferred it considering some of his clothing choices -, even if they really weren’t doing much more than what they were already doing.

On the other hand, Eggsy… didn’t have the best upbringing and – for all Harry knew – he had magpie tendencies in regards to everyone he considered family. Maybe one of his sister’s teething rings that she no longer needed or some odds and ends he’d never returned to his mates or even a bracelet from his mother.

Harry already knew Eggsy still kept his father’s medal, the one Harry himself gave him.

And once he actually thought about it, maybe there was something from Roxanne in this supposed magpie nest Eggsy had created. Even from Merlin, though Harry was interested and curious as to what it could be and how Eggsy had gotten it.

A small part of him liked the idea that Harry had a larger role in that ‘nest’ because of his larger role in Eggsy’s life, but he really did need to curb the younger man’s inner magpie. Perhaps Eggsy just needed to remember that he didn’t need to steal from Harry if he wanted affection.

Besides, Harry didn’t actually mind. Eggsy was welcome to his clothes, he just wanted the robe back.

He could replace everything else if he needed to.

He would have to think of a way to bring it up during their Friday night, though not in a demoralizing way or anything. He didn’t want to spook the poor lad who was just showing affection in a way he probably couldn’t control.

* **

Friday came around, but Eggsy never got back to him about being able to meet up.

Harry was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend time with him, but they had the rest of the month to spend as much time as they wanted with each other – hopefully a lot of time, if Eggsy was agreeable – and it looked like it was going to be a quiet night in.

He finished his daytime errands and was settling in for the night with his laptop and a tumbler of brandy in the living room when someone knocked on his door.

Heaving a sigh, he levered himself up and tried to think about who it would be as he shuffled toward the door. He was between young Miss Carmichael from the next street over about her ball again or old Mrs. Takahata about her cat – which was _not_ named ‘Baron’, damn Merlin and his soft spot for ‘Whisper of the Heart’ and ‘The Cat Returns’ – when he actually got to the door and opened it.

The figure on his stoop was slumped against the wall, but the light spilling out revealed the miserable features well enough.

“Eggsy?” he blinked.

The young Knight barely gave him the chance to register the tousled blond hair, tired eyes and the sight of his beige cardigan hugging the compact figure before barreling into his arms with a choked sob.

Harry’s arms automatically came down to hug him as a movement some feet away led his gaze to the small silhouette of ~~Baron~~ the feline Takahata as it scurried into someone’s alleyway.

Closing the door, he turned his attention to the blond in his arms, his face buried in his second favorite bathrobe and a death grip beginning to make breathing slightly difficult. “Eggsy?”

He didn’t move for a long enough time that Harry was becoming alarmed, especially with the sniffs barely muffled against his shoulder.

“Are you alright, my dear?” his fingers soothingly swept up and down the tense spine that gradually relaxed under his touch.

Eggsy gave a last sniff before loosening his grip and taking a small step back, hands still fisted in the dark blue fabric as he avoided Harry’s concerned gaze. “Sorry,” he sniffed, prying a hand off to swipe at his nose. “I – it’s … stupid. Wasn’t – wasn’t thinkin’.”

“Eggsy,” he ducked his head down to try to get a good look at his face. “I honestly don’t give a damn if you have a stupid reason to come to me, because I’m just glad I’ve become the person you go to when you’re beyond rational thought.” ‘Glad’ was an understatement, but that was neither here nor there. “And it couldn’t have been too stupid if it’s got you upset. Would you like to talk about it?”

Eggsy seemed to be struggling with his thoughts, but he eventually gave a helpless shrug. “It’s – I… I just want to fucking _sleep_ ,” he gave another sob in what sounded alarmingly like desperation and Harry automatically offered a pocket square, the fabric being received with a small smile. “Just – I thought it was going to keep working. I started sleeping on the couch and that worked for a bit, but I was always havin’ to go, right? I started takin’ your stuff with me and that worked like some kind of protection spell or somethin’ and I thought it was okay after seein’ you, but now I think it just fucked it up and I can’t sleep and you have no fuckin’ _idea_ how much I wanta sleep.

“It’s just, every time I think it’s gonna be okay, I have one of those stupid dreams and I can’t get rid of them and I can’t figure out why and I don’t remember much but it fuckin’ _scares me_ and I keep thinkin’ I ain’t never gonna see you again –”

“Hush,” Harry dragged him back into his arms as Eggsy sobbed out his frustration and what seemed to be a kind of holdover from these dreams he apparently never stopped having after that one mission with Roxy. “Shh, Eggsy. You will _always_ be able to see me,” he found an ear to speak quietly into as his fingers resumed their trek up and down the quivering spine. “I can’t promise that I’ll live forever, Eggsy, but I will do my fucking _damndest_ to try to come back to you. I can promise you that, above all else. Do you understand me, Eggsy?” he kept up a soothing stream of noise as Eggsy tried to get himself back together in the shelter of Harry’s arms, Harry long having lost track of what it was he was saying by the time Eggsy was actively pulling back.

“Thanks, ‘arry,” he smiled tiredly, absently stretching up to let his lips touch Harry’s cheek before dropping back down with a large yawn. “Seems like that did the trick, yeah? I’ll just –”

“Have you eaten?” Harry slid a critical gaze over the slightly thinner figure than he remembered.

“Bits here and there. No’ hungry.”

And coming from Kingsman’s resident garbage disposal, that was a testament to how bad off the young man really was.

“I’ll make some toast, then,” he let a hand come up to smooth wayward blond locks and Eggsy sighed as he leaned into the touch. “Let’s get you to the sofa.”

It didn’t take too terribly long to make the toast and fill a glass with water, but Eggsy looked half asleep when Harry returned to his side.

Toast eaten and water drained, Harry settled down on the sofa with a quickly fading Eggsy tucked into his side and reached for his brandy, hoping no other company would bother them as he took a sip, his fingers tapping at Eggsy’s hip.

*

He woke up the next morning still on the couch, Eggsy’s weight pressing him down and his limbs refusing to release their hold on Harry.

He blinked up at the ceiling and blinked around before he needed to use the loo. Heaving a sigh, he tried moving and Eggsy’s hold tightened with a slight whimper.

“It’s alright,” he immediately shushed. “I simply need to take care of some business.”

“C’ll sick,” a smile quirked his lips at the mumbled response.

“If only I could, but I’m afraid visiting Mr. Pickle waits for no early hour. You are more than welcome to go back to sleep,” he coaxed.

After long moments that convinced him Eggsy had fallen back to sleep, a heavy sigh was heaved and the blond reluctantly shifted slightly until Harry could extract himself.

The pace helped him remember why he usually tried to fall asleep upstairs in his own bed and he finally straightened with a grimace at his complaining body. He shuffled to the loo and made his way back to the living room with a lighter step.

Eggsy was still on the edge between sleep and wakefulness, but Harry noted the time and decided against going back to sleep.

“Come along, dearest,” Harry tapped his shoulder. “Up to the guest room.”

“I’m up,” he snuggled into the spot Harry had left. “Don’t wanna move.”

“I’ll make some breakfast, then, shall I?”

He got the kettle working and started making eggs and toast by the time he heard the loo door close.

Eggsy silently made his way into the kitchen and found the tableware, taking it upon himself to set the table as Harry cooked.

“Well done,” he came out with toast and a variety of other things to see the table set the correct way. “A bit formal, but that’ll do.”

“Didn’t get to eat wit’ you last night,” he shrugged almost listlessly. “Sorry about that, too.”

“You seemed a bit desperate,” Harry smiled slightly, “but I see your point.”

Once they had breakfast in front of them, they started eating and Harry couldn’t help sneaking glances at the young man who seemed a bit more tired now that he’d had some sleep.

“You’re more than welcome to stay,” he offered. “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing, but I won’t mind the company.”

Eggsy stared into his tea for a long moment, obviously struggling with himself, before nodding. “Yeah. Alright. I… I don’t mean to –”

“You said you were having some problems with sleep?” he immediately prompted, cutting off any attempt to talk either of them out of it.

“Ah, yea. I… Remember that night when I called you during that mission with Roxy?” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Very vague impressions and never quite recalling what the dreams were about,” Harry recalled. “Not wanting to return to sleep.”

“Yeah. All that,” he took a breath and shook his head, not looking at him. “But lately… it’s – it’s more that ‘m scared. I don’t know what of or why, but… I’m terrified and … I just want to wake up and stay up until … whatever ‘m shit terrified of is over.”

“And there’s nothing else?”

“No, ‘arry, you don’t get it,” charismatic eyes met his own dull brown, bright with emotion. “Bein’ terrified is _all_ I can do. There ain’t nothin’ else ‘cept that. I can’t focus on anythin’ else, ‘cause there ain’t nothin’ else to focus on.”

“Which explains my indirect role in all of this,” Harry now had all the pieces, except for Eggsy’s dreams. “I’ve been the subject of your focus.”

“Attempted,” Eggsy put his cup on the table and scrubbed his face tiredly. “Ain’t workin’ no more.”

“I feel vaguely insulted, to be honest,” he quipped, taking a small sip of tea. “That I’m not –”

“ _Harry_ ,” the look on Eggsy’s face made him freeze, the rest of his sentence falling by the wayside at the – the… he didn’t even know what to call it as Eggsy was suddenly on his knees at his side. “No, Harry,” earnest was the emotion that first came to mind as Eggsy locked their gazes. “You _are_. You – I can’t focus on anythin’ else ‘cept you. You’re all I can think about when I ain’t on missions and sometimes I’m scared to think about what would happen when we’re both on the same assignment, but I want it anyway because I go inta withdrawal every time I go months without seein’ you. And a lot o’ the time, I don’ wanta focus on anythin’ else _but_ you and, swear down, I wish I could now, but it’s just too – too _big_ for me to turn my focus on you and ‘m terrified about what that means. If I can’t focus on you, what am I gonna do, Harry?” the desperation was coming through, now. “It’s not that you ain’t interestin’ or worth the focus, ‘cause you are, but not right now and I don’ know why but do not _ever_ think I don’t love you.”

The silence was all encompassing, the grip on Harry’s wrist tight as if a plea was given for him to believe the words he was hearing.

Harry, staring wordlessly – almost dumbly – at the upturned face, saw the gradual widening of bright eyes as they both replayed those last words.

Perhaps he’d meant to say that last bit at that time or perhaps he’d been hoping to say that another time, but Harry hadn’t actually expected to hear it. Just because he himself was hopelessly in love with Eggsy, didn’t mean Eggsy was hopelessly in love with him…

Although, maybe he should start getting used to the idea of being wrong.

“Well,” he clasped the hand on his wrist, keeping it there when it felt like it was about to move away. “I must admit, I’m at a loss as to how to help you, but I do want to help you get over whatever this fear is. And that is not going to be easy, is it?” nor was it going to be easy to temporarily ignore the warmth flooding his being in ways that he honestly can’t recall ever having felt before. He smiled at the blond that stared up at him, a finger beginning to sweep across the jumping pulse under it. “Call me what you will, but I’m feeling quite put out that something has usurped my place in your attentions and I’d rather see that restored. I can’t imagine what would usurp your place in _my_ attentions, but then I’m not having your dreams. We will figure this out somehow,” he felt optimistic as he leaned slightly to lock their gazes even further. “When we do, I believe there’s a joint mission in our future after a dinner date and don’t tell me you won’t be able to focus on the mission with me there. If I’m going to have to force myself to focus on something else, then you’ll have to do the same. Misery loves company, after all.”

Eggsy was reading something on his face, because whatever slight panic he’d been feeling slowly fell away as disbelieving wonder took its place. Harry saw it reflecting in his eyes and, following some odd sort of feeling in his stomach that shoved that gentleman façade temporarily to the side, slowly leant down and closed his own as his lips met Eggsy’s forehead.

He held it for long moments before slowly pulling away, opening his eyes to see Eggsy’s own slowly doing the same and they looked at each other for a long moment.

“Finish eating,” Harry smiled slightly. “Afterwards, we’ll come up with a plan of attack that, I’m afraid, will have to be done by trial and error. And then, we will come back to this. After, of course, a sufficient period has passed where it will be appropriate for declarations of affection.”

“You mean it’s too soon?” Eggsy tilted his head.

“It does feel a bit too soon, yes. As you so often like to remind me, I am ‘old school’ and I have to do things the way I’ve been accustomed to.”

Eggsy blinked as he thought about that before a brilliant smile appeared. “Yes, Harry.”

* **


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope your Memorial Holiday is going well. 
> 
> Here's your Monday update. Enjoy!

* * *

It wasn’t that Harry hadn’t believed Eggsy when he’d said he had a devil of a time getting to sleep and staying there, but…

Well, looking back, he figured that he’d been under the impression that it hadn’t been as severe as he’d been led to believe.

The first week, in a scandalous violation of propriety that Harry wasn’t about to fix, they’d shared sleeping space after the success of that first night, be it in the bed or out of it for hours long naps that were desperately needed.

More often than not, Harry would wake up from an unexpected nap to find Eggsy draped over the pillow on his lap and his fingers buried in short blond hair.

The shared sleeping space was supplemented by things they’d come up with to keep Eggsy as drowsy as they could get him without resorting to unnecessary chemical means.

Said unnecessary chemical means, however, were not completely off the table.

“I know you’d rather go without,” Harry looked over the rather short list before they left to start acquiring ingredients, “but how far would you have to be before taking sleeping pills?”

“Last resort,” he shook his head. “Got to try everything else first. And if those stop being useful, then we’ll talk.”

Harry hadn’t pushed, because he – and, he suspected, Eggsy himself – hadn’t anticipated needing any last resorts.

That it was going to all blow over within the next two weeks and the young Knight would go back to having regular sleep either in Harry’s house or elsewhere if need be.

Then, in the middle of the second week, Harry left the bedroom on what was supposed to have been a kitchen visit that would only last a few minutes.

Kentucky, however, needed a bit more than a few minutes and it was the better part of two hours before he got back to bed.

Somewhere within the last couple hours, Eggsy had rolled over to the furthest edge of the bed, his back to Harry, but Harry was content with knowing he wasn’t alone as he laid on his back in the dark room.

He couldn’t sleep right away, trying to blank his mind, so he was aware enough to hear the slight noise from Eggsy’s side of the bed almost an hour later.

Rolling over to face the blond’s back, he let out a sigh and just laid there as he heard another slight noise.

Eggsy had always made small noises in his sleep – even during his tenure as a recruit -, so Harry wasn’t concerned as yet another slight noise drifted over.

He started getting concerned when he registered a slight shaking coming from Eggsy at the same time as something that sounded alarmingly like a _sob_ drifted over and Harry sat up.

“Eggsy?”

The next sob had him reaching out, pulling the blond to him as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

“Eggsy? Eggsy, my dearest, it’s alright,” he cooed as the shaking figure curled into him and the next sob seemed to come a little easier. “It’s alright. I’m here.”

“Don’ – don’ send me back,” the heartbreaking plea gave him pause as he attempted to parse out the situation. “ _Please_ ,” Eggsy sobbed, fingers twisting his night clothes in an iron grip that spoke of desperate fear. “Please don’. I don’ wanna go back.”

“Eggsy,” he curled around his shaking partner. “Of _course_ I won’t send you back. You belong here with me.”

“I can’ go back. Don’ make me,” Eggsy didn’t seem like he was aware of Harry trying to comfort him. “Please, I don’ – I don’ wanna die.”

_What?_

Harry blinked, then again, then a few more times, the last accompanied by a head shake.

No way did Eggsy say what Harry thought he said.

Why on earth would Eggsy think he was going to die?

“No, my darling, shh,” he put that aside for later. “You aren’t going to die, Eggsy. I promise you.”

Well, technically, either one – or both – of them could die at any given time, but it wasn’t going to be tonight.

“Please,” Eggsy sobbed, breath hitching as tears dampened Harry’s shoulder. “ _Please_ don’ send me back.”

Harry didn’t know where any of this was coming from, but he did his best to allay Eggsy’s fears and he was slowly getting through to him by the time dawn was beginning to light the windows.

Eggsy, twisted around him and clutching him as tightly as he would a teddy bear, slowly drifted back off to sleep, his sobs and desperate pleas tapering off as he sunk back into unconsciousness.

Harry, however, never went back to sleep, his heart breaking as sobs echoed in his memories with a deep fear and desperation that Harry had never heard from _anyone_ in all his years.

It hurt even more that it was Eggsy, the gorgeous, strong young man he fell in love with, who sounded like he was breaking from the inside out.

* **

Eggsy didn’t remember that night, didn’t act unlike the way he usually did, didn’t set off any alarm bells.

Harry didn’t have the heart to bring it up when faced with that happy smile tinged slightly with concern, so he let it go unvoiced.

That night wasn’t the last time Eggsy would come to a semblance of wakefulness, desperately pleading with Harry to not send him ‘back’ – wherever that was – and that he didn’t want to die.

And after solid, consecutive nights of this, Harry wasn’t sure how his heart could break any more than it already had, each fearful sob, each desperate plea breaking even more of his heart that he didn’t know how much more he could take.

But as bad – as heart breaking – as that was, nothing could have prepared him for the night terrors.

Good God, the _night terrors._

*

The sobbing fits were gradually tapering off as their mandatory month of leave began to draw to a close, something Harry was hopeful to mean that things were going to be just fine.

Then came the night Eggsy decided to try weaning off from his dependence of Harry by sleeping in the guest room with a pill.

“You’re not any trouble, Eggsy,” Harry’s smile feeling a tad brittle considering how much his heart hurt. “I’d prefer if you kept sleeping with me.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, giving him a long once-over. “Not sure it’s doin’ much good anymore to keep away from the pills.”

Oddly, all of Eggsy’s anguish was never remembered in the light of day.

One would never have expected that just hours ago, he was a shaking mess in Harry’s arms as he pleaded to stay with him and not be sent back to a place Harry had yet to identify.

“Plus,” he went on, “I’m goin’ back on rotation, so… I’m not gonna be able to be here all the time. Best to start getting used to sleeping alone again.”

“Very well,” Harry stuffed the foreboding feeling down and acquiesced. “But I’ll leave the doors opened if you need me.”

The day was relatively quiet and they’d gone out for that dinner with both of them pulling out all the Kingsman stops on each other just because they could and Harry hadn’t had so much fun in ages.

Sometimes, it was really fun to act like your fellow Agent was a mark, who pretended you were the same.

Of course, neither could resist turning it into a bit of field practice for the future, something that was all their own despite allowing Gareth and Galahad out to play.

The genuine looks and smiles made it clear that Eggsy and Harry were present, too.

Harry allowed himself to get caught up in the evening, allowing Eggsy to take his hand in the cab to Harry’s house in a bit of a daze that came from such happiness.

And he’d gone to sleep without a care in the world, a smile lingering on his lips.

*

The first scream had him out of bed and reaching for the gun inside the closet.

The second scream had him creeping down the hall to Eggsy’s room, alert for danger.

By the time he reached the door, his awareness was slowly coming in and he blinked owlishly at the single figure writhing on the bed, sheets completely twisted around Eggsy’s legs as he screamed again.

He stared before the next scream kicked him into action, placing the gun to the side and trying to figure out how to best get a hold of the young Agent who would probably feel guilty as hell when he saw a bruise in the morning.

Luckily, he managed to avoid being flattened by wayward limbs, but the screams dissolved into familiar heartbreaking sobs and Harry began to understand just how severely Eggsy had been underestimating his ‘bad dreams’.

Harry was barely aware that he himself was shaking until Eggsy started moving and looked up at him in sleepy confusion.

He didn’t know what was on his face, but Eggsy took one look at him and hugged him just as tight as the bone breaking grip he had on Eggsy.

*

“I don’t think you should go out in the field just yet,” Harry told him after the third night.

“It’s that bad,” Eggsy was more resigned than surprised, especially after having woken up in the guest room with Harry wrapped around him.

“Darling,” he sighed, scrubbing his face. “I wish it was that bad.”

Because after three nights of having to calm terrified screams, fearful sobs and desperate pleas – _still_ with no earthly idea as to the source of the terrors, because Harry was certain Kingsman had nothing to do with it -, it was _worse_.

“Can’t remember any of it,” Eggsy looked as helpless as Harry felt. “Though, I have been sleeping a little better. Somethin’ tells me you don’t think so.”

 “No, no, I don’t,” he smiled tiredly.

He felt like crying.

How Eggsy could deal with all of this – how long had he been waking up in sobs before Harry witnessed it the first time? – was beyond him. He would’ve ended it long ago.

Then again, if all Harry remembered were vague impressions that still slipped through his fingers at every attempt to capture them, maybe he wouldn’t be aware of the outside, either.

“So, what do we do?” Eggsy asked the one question neither one had an answer to.

“I don’t know.”

That was the hardest thing he ever had to admit.

*

The night terrors kept them both up; Harry unable to sleep so he could be there for Eggsy and Eggsy unable to subject Harry to whatever his night terrors were doing.

Luckily, Harry was able to put them both on long overdue vacation time, but, as a result, there was predictably a slew of – not quite untrue – rumors going around concerning the both of them.

Something Harry – for some reason that he was blaming on sleep deprivation – just didn’t think to account for.

*

One late April afternoon, Harry wandered around London when Eggsy had to meet up with friends for a few hours.

He found a café and sat outside with a variety of orders as he worked on a few crosswords in between bouts of gazing into space.

He didn’t want to stay in the house that suddenly seemed so empty, so he took his time until he was certain that Eggsy might be back.

Unfortunately, he was no closer to finding a solution to Eggsy’s night problems and he knew they had to come up with something soon because they couldn’t stay out of the field forever.

Well, they could, but neither wanted to go looking for injuries nor did they want to quit Kingsman and both had long ago agreed that both were going to leave in a fiery explosion if need be.

It did seem like a hopeless cause, but they weren’t yet into powerful sleeping help. Not that any of it seemed to be helping as opposed to making it worse.

Although, now that he was thinking about Eggsy’s night terrors, he sighed and took out his mobile to call Merlin.

 _‘Am I going to have to wipe more footage of brawls?’_ he greeted almost wryly.

“No, nothing like that. I was just curious about Eggsy’s file,” he thought about how to explain his problem without truly giving away Eggsy’s confidence. “How deeply have you looked into his background?”

 _‘Quite a bit,’_ Merlin responded, almost curiously. _‘Why? Was there something you needed to know?’_

“Is there anything… that could fall into a ‘traumatic event’ classification?”

_‘Hm. I’ll look as deep as I can into it, but the lad’s childhood could qualify.’_

“I somehow doubt that.”

Nothing from Eggsy’s childhood had had that much of a lasting impact, except maybe when it came to people and relationships, and nothing from the Royal Marines could have been a ‘traumatic event’ - especially since Eggsy had more than once swore up and down that nothing could account for any of those vague impressions he had.

Harry was inclined to believe him, because there had only truly been few incidents – if any – where Eggsy would have felt so desperate or fearful enough to have it come from somewhere deep inside. When they discussed some of it – Harry keeping most details to himself for fear of unknown repercussions - , the one question Harry asked him was about times that he truly felt his life in danger.

Eggsy couldn’t recall a single incident off-hand that could possibly explain the terrors he experienced at night. Not even in such an abusive environment as he’d grown up in.

 _‘Can’t give me anything more than that?’_ Merlin huffed an amused laugh.

“Not unless I speak to Eggsy himself about it, first.”

_‘So, you can’t ask him about his own past?’_

“Even if I could, there is simply no absolute guarantee that he would remember any of it. So, please, if anything truly jumps out at you –”

 _‘Aye. You’ll be the first to – oh, what now?’_ he broke off with an audible frown as even Harry could hear the ping in the background. _‘Just a moment, Harry. Yes, Lancelot?’_

Harry sighed and sipped his tea as he waited for Merlin’s quite in-demand attention, knowing that personal problems came last.

 _‘Galahad,’_ the tone was tight with worry that had Harry straightening. _‘Lancelot’s requested some help and it sounds urgent.’_

“I’ll go to her, then,” he was immediately putting empty dishes on the edge of the table as he collected his belongings. “Where is she?”

_‘Your house.’_

He took off running, heart racing as he thought of several worst-case scenarios that could possibly explain Lancelot’s presence in his house and most of them had to do with Eggsy.

Merlin transferred their connection to the glasses Harry still wore, _‘Lancelot doesn’t seem like she’s going to wait, Harry.’_

“What’s happening?” he dodged strollers and tourists and possibly even few cars as he focused on getting back to his house as soon as humanly possible.

Merlin was silent for a moment before, _‘Lancelot went to see Gareth after confirming that he’d returned to your house. She’s only really just arrived, but reported alarming noises coming from the inside.’_

Suddenly, he couldn’t help suspecting that Eggsy had taken an unwitting nap on the sofa.

“Merlin, tell her to stand down! I’m almost there.”

He heard the order being repeated, but Lancelot was obviously protective of her best friend and Harry finally reached his own house to find the front door wide open and Roxy frozen as she took in the no less alarming scene in front of her.

From what Harry could see, Eggsy had possibly been trying to drink as much of the calming tea as he could, his poor boy having kicked the coffee table at some point and that sent the cup flying to the ground.

The mess would have to be seen to later, Harry focusing on Eggsy whose eyes were open but unseeing as he was wracked with harsh sobs.

In no time at all, Harry had Eggsy wrapped around him for maximum comfort and he was vaguely aware of Merlin’s silence in his ear and Roxy still frozen just a few feet away as he soothed Eggsy into violent shaking and softer sobs.

 _‘What was that?’_ Merlin sounded astonished.

“That,” Harry included Roxy in his answer, “was why I need you to dig as deep as you can into Eggsy’s files.”

“How long’s this been going on?” Roxy demanded to know.

“Well, I’m not truthfully sure. I only really became aware of it during the second week of our downtime. The severe terrors started not long after that.”

“Is that what that was?” Roxy was trying to take this all in. “A night terror?”

“Yes. It’s why I’ve requested time for both of us, to make sure that we come up with something that works for him.”

She stared at them – and Merlin no doubt doing the same from her feed – for several long moments. “That’s… that’s why you requested leave?”

It was Harry’s turn to stare back. “Why else would I?”

Evidently, there were particularly lurid pieces of gossip he’d been unaware about and Roxy – bless her – had come round just to check that her best friend wasn’t being coerced into doing things he didn’t want to do.

That obviously backfired and she was Kingsman enough to admit that she may have made a bit of an error.

 _‘Yes, and I’ll be dealing with that line of gossip as soon as I finish here,’_ Merlin’s tone signaled a very uncomfortable discussion for someone.

“So,” Roxy looked at Eggsy as he clung to Harry in his sleep. “You don’t seem to be having any luck with banishing the night terrors on your own. What have you done so far?”

Harry, Roxy and Merlin discussed the problem and tried to come up with other ways of sleep or explanations, but nothing seemed to really fit.

“I mean,” the sole female shrugged as she cleaned up the tea and cup, “it sounds a bit too much like PTSD, as far as the dreams are concerned, but I’m not sure about the ‘vague impressions’ he kept describing.”

“I’m not even sure what he could possibly have PTSD _from_ ,” Harry pointed out. “He’d been with Kingsman for years before this started – unless it’s been with him before that.”

 _‘I’ll look into it to see what I can do. For now, the lad needs all the rest he can get,’_ Merlin’s voice was gentle as if Eggsy could hear him.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Harry heaved a heavy sigh.

“I could stay the night,” Roxy looked up from where she stayed kneeling on the floor. “To try to give you some sleep.”

“While I do appreciate the concern, Ms. Morton, I –” he stopped at the look on her face. It wasn’t himself that she was focused on, which closed his mouth and made his decision for him. “You are more than welcome to try,” he tried again, not certain if she was even paying attention to him as she watched her best friend curled in his lap.

There were some things that friends did for each other without being given permission. Heaven knew, Merlin had done things behind his or a caretaker’s back because he’d felt responsible somehow.

If Roxy took it upon herself to attempt to fix something she felt resulted from some sort of dereliction of friendship, then Harry wasn’t about to stand in her way.

“I will warn you,” he simply added, “it is not going to be easy.”

“Why should you be the only one?” she didn’t back down from anything – especially when it came to Eggsy. “I’m his best mate. Best mates have to team up with…” she frowned before waving a hand, “whatever you are to him. Even if we have to go behind his back. So,” she straightened, her head held high to meet his gaze head on. “What do I do?”

*

“What do I _do_?” she repeated the words hours later, desperation in her voice and alarm in her eyes as she curled as tightly around her sobbing friend as she could manage from where he clung to her. “Harry,” she seemed on the verge of crying herself, “what is going on?”

He sighed and bit his lip as Eggsy’s pleas drifted over to him near the door. “I wish I knew.”

* **


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you Monday! The last two chapters are at hand!

* * *

Harry found nothing.

Roxy found nothing.

 _Merlin_ found nothing and Eggsy continued to suffer for their failure.

“I mean,” Roxy nursed her tumbler as they sat on the floor of the master bedroom, Eggsy barely back to sleep on Harry’s lap after another episode. “It’s PTSD. It _has_ to be PTSD.”

They were desperate for answers that Eggsy couldn’t give them.

Merlin scrubbed his face, having started spending the nights with Harry and Eggsy and Roxy. Only Harry seemed able to calm Eggsy more efficiently – possibly because of the familiarity by now, or because of Eggsy’s subconscious preference for him -, but that didn’t stop the other two from keeping their own vigils.

“It canno’ possibly be PTSD,” he argued for the thousandth time. “There is _nothing_ like this in his records. ‘Cepting Kingsman, but …”

“It can’t be Kingsman,” she tugged at her hair. “He _adores_ Kingsman. It – I can’t – where on earth does he think he’s going back out to?”

Harry simply drained his own glass.

All these questions were the ones he’d asked himself again and again.

There were no answers.

* **

There’d been no helping it.

Kingsman had to get involved somehow, even if it was only the resources.

Eggsy – watching the three of them slowly get more and more desperate and himself getting more desperate for solid sleep – agreed to being drugged with high-grade stuff and refused every attempt Harry made of talking him out of it.

“Haz, either it’s the high-grade or a stun dart. I can give both to myself, so you don’t have to feel guilty abou’ it.”

Harry quickly agreed, because there was no doubt in his mind that Eggsy would find a way to get himself to deep sleep alone if he had to.

The trade-off was that they’d have to stay at the Estate during this… ‘treatment’, but that condition was easily agreed to.

Strangely, - bafflingly  –, it worked.

Putting him under deep had worked.

Harry, for some reason, found that unaccountably sad.

What in the world had happened to Eggsy where being drugged helped him to sleep?

Harry watched over Eggsy in the older Knight’s quarters, either from the armchair or curled around the unconscious blond. He buried his face in his love’s back and breathed, feeling the slow heartbeat against his cheek.

All he could think about was the pleas to keep Eggsy from his certain death and he hugged him tighter.

*

In order to keep from losing the potency of the drugs, it was a given that they would have to take Eggsy off them at some point.

Harry knew that.

They knew – he, Eggsy, Roxy and Merlin – and everyone swore they were going to take it easy, by slowly reducing the dose.

Eggsy woke up the entire Estate that night and it had been one of the medical technicians that realized – at three o’clock in the morning – that Eggsy had been given a placebo.

Further investigation revealed that not everyone had believed the urgency or severity of the problem and some medical personnel had been among them.

They’d taken advantage of their leader’s absence to prove their theory and, _oh_ , did it backfire.

Eggsy had always given the impression that he never actually remembered pleading or sobbing or screaming despite the red eyes and sore throat he’d wake up with and one of three figures wrapped around him upon waking. This had been a bit of a wake-up call – no pun intended -, because he never actually knew the extent of how bad it was.

Merlin reluctantly showed him one of the visual/audio security feeds from near ‘Q-Branch’ and Harry watched Eggsy’s face drain of colour.

“That – _that_ ’s what – fucking _hell_ , ‘arry,” his wide eyes met Harry’s calm brown. “I never – I’m _sorry_.”

“Don’t be,” he smiled, taking a shaking hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I see that you honestly had no idea, though I believe you’ve suspected. It is one thing to suspect and another to confirm.”

“And – and how do you – how haven’t you gone mental yet?” Eggsy’s hand tightened around his, wide eyes searching for an answer in his expression.

There was an unspoken question, there, too: _How haven’t you decided I’m not worth it?_

“A good host always makes sure his guests are comfortable, enough so that they sleep through the night. No matter what bed they’ve taken up residence in. The fact that you are so distinctly _un_ comfortable can only be some sort of mark on my good name.”

Usually, he would be able to think that through and read between the lines, but the sleep issues were probably affecting him because Eggsy stared blankly. “Wot.”

“To be frank,” he glanced at Merlin, who refused to look away from a report he might not actually be reading, “I am concerned about you. I need to know what’s keeping you from having a good night’s sleep, because I can’t help feeling a bit… inferior, perhaps, knowing that a guest under my own roof is not happy. That aside,” he glanced down and brushed another kiss to the back of Eggsy’s hand. “I… need to know what’s been scaring you so badly that you haven’t had peace. And that’s an entirely different sort of inferiority, knowing I could be helping you but not knowing _how_. I’ve fought an entire bar for you, Eggsy,” he looked up sadly, trying to make him understand what he wasn’t saying. “I’ve fought others of your demons, when you couldn’t find a way to do so yourself. I would fight the world for you, but I can’t even fight this.”

Eggsy’s brow furrowed for a long moment before his expression cleared. “I dunno if you know this,” he leaned forward to whisper to him only, “but yer my hero. You always are my hero and you always will be. But even heroes have ta find somethin’ they can’t fight. That’s just the way it is. An’ you either walk away or come at it from a different angle if you care ‘nough.”

“That I do,” Harry’s smile was a little brighter. He hadn’t thought of it like that, before. “Assuming, of course, that there _is_ a different angle.”

“There’s _always_ a different angle,” Eggsy smiled softly. “But how much does bein’ a good host mean to you?”

“Not as much as you do,” he answered, the admission coming almost shyly.

“Right, then,” Merlin cut off further response. “We have some people to interrogate,” he deadpanned, glancing between Harry and Eggsy with a hard expression and cold eyes. “No one is allowed to torment one of my Knights like that. And don’ be thinkin’ otherwise, lad. They’re all bloody _spies_ – you’d think they could see that something was wrong!”

Well, when Merlin put it that way…

Harry nodded, ‘Galahad’ peeking out. “Of course, Merlin. Lancelot?”

“You can rest easy on that. She’s already plotting disappearances as we speak.”

**

Now that everyone knew Eggsy’s night terrors were no laughing matter, everyone and their aunts were suddenly giving him advice.

A majority of the suggestions had already been crossed off the list, but Eggsy – as he usually did – thanked everyone with a tired and warm smile and people were left believing they’d made a difference somehow.

One of the suggestions – completely unnecessary in Harry’s opinion – was therapy.

Eggsy was fairly friendly with a few of Kingsman’s therapists, which made the suggestion rather puzzling to the said therapists.

With at least fifty years of experience between them, all three of the ‘go-to’ therapists had absolutely no explanation regarding the still frustratingly vague impressions that Eggsy was still trying to drag out into something a little more concrete.

If it _was_ PTSD, as Roxy still believed it to be, then it was either a nearly completely forgotten incident that Eggsy himself couldn’t recall or …

Well, there… there wasn’t really an ‘or’.

But even if it was PTSD, no one could exactly explain what had triggered it.

There always had to be a trigger, that much Harry knew and understood.

The trigger could be virtually anything that happened around the time the horrible night terrors began, but Eggsy hadn’t ever been around others until he spent the night at Harry’s so the timeline was suspect.

When it came to the suggested therapy, it basically amounted to “what the ever loving fuck would I need therapy _for_? I mean, all the three of you said it yourselves, right? That it ain’t somethin’ I can remember? Hell, I don’ even know if it’s a real, you know, _event_.”

But after so long hearing the desperate fear in Eggsy’s voice about not ‘going back’, Harry was truly convinced that the ‘event’ had been real.

No one could sway him otherwise, because no one sounded like that when they were acting or baseless.

Like…

Like they sincerely believed that they weren’t going to see the next sunrise.

He didn’t like thinking about that.

*

Then, some presumably well-meaning soul suggested hypnotherapy.

Eggsy’s resulting nervous breakdown in front of half the Estate’s occupants had him seeking Harry out, who was sitting in his office.

The pale blond was barely able to breathe as he hyperventilated, panicked eyes desperately reflecting a fear that he’d heard dozens of thousands of times.

This time, however, Harry could do something about it and he immediately left Eggsy in the care of Percival to confront the threat.

Things got fuzzy after that.

He woke up in one of Kingsman’s safe houses, an unconscious Eggsy wrapped tightly around him, to the sight of Roxy sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed and armed with a quarter of Kingsman’s arsenal.

Percival and one of the other Knights prowled the rest of the house with the other two quarters of Kingsman’s arsenal, and Merlin walked the perimeter with the last quarter of the arsenal in addition to part of yet another arsenal that Harry had long suspected the existence of.

After being reassured that Eggsy wasn’t going to be waking up anytime soon, Harry went to find Merlin.

A relatively short discussion resulted in an email being sent out to every Kingsman Agent, Asset and Staff member explaining – in no uncertain terms – that Valentine had hypnotized Harry into mass slaughter and it was going to be over several dead bodies that Eggsy was going to experience even a _fraction_ of that loss of control.

Later, Harry would wonder if that hadn’t been some sort of overreaction, but right now he didn’t give a damn.

“’m sorry,” Eggsy slurred as he let Harry take his weight when both curled up in front of Harry’s telly some days after.

“Not your fault,” Harry absently brushed a kiss to his hair as they sat with the sound muted. “I, too, would’ve had an extreme reaction were I in your place.”

“’s… it’s just not fair, right? The hell can’t I remember? I mean, if I do… If I do, then things’ll get better, yeah?”

“Eventually, yes. At least, we can hope.”

Eggsy heaved a soul-deep sigh and buried his face into Harry’s shoulder, not saying anything for long hours after.

* **


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Monday update.
> 
> (Speaking of update: did anyone get an update notice from the last chapter? I don't think I did, but the site's been acting crazy lately according to the updates on the home page.)
> 
> I'm pretty sure you have your theories - and most of them might very well be true -, but I hope there's still at least one surprise left for you to find before all is said and done. 
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

It was June when Harry next looked at a calendar.

Where had the time gone?

Eggsy was curled up against him again, but the television was off.

It was nice, simply sitting with Eggsy and doing absolutely nothing.

The late afternoon was moving to early evening, but a yawn still took him aback.

Eggsy’s sleep was still wracked with wordless screams and sobbing pleas, but – for some inexplicable reason – Harry thought the night terrors were … getting better.

It was a nice hope to have, in any case.

He never wanted to hear that desperation coming from Eggsy again for the rest of both their lives.

Eggsy should never feel that desperate, especially desperate enough for Harry to hear it.

The young Knight had already had a hard childhood that Harry wished more than anything to erase, but couldn’t because Eggsy wouldn’t be who he was otherwise.

“This is nice,” Eggsy sounded sleepy, though maybe Harry was just projecting his tiredness onto him.

It had been a long time since Harry had had a good night’s sleep.

If it wasn’t Kentucky, it was thoughts of what could have terrorized Eggsy so badly.

There were a _lot_ of things his imagination mixed together, like a beautifully mixed drink. It was quite honestly enough to make him want a drink, beautifully mixed or not.

“Mm,” Harry nodded after a moment. “It is.”

Eggsy shifted and it took a moment for Harry to realize the slight rubbing against his shoulder as not just typical shifting around.

“Are you scenting?” he couldn’t help the amused smile as Eggsy continued to brush his cheek against him, much like ~~Baron~~ his occasional visitor did when he found it in his backyard.

“Mind?” Eggsy returned.

“I’m afraid I’m fresh out of cat treats,” he let a hand drift up to pet at soft blond hair.

“It’s ‘cause of Baron,” the cheeky boy was grinning, he could tell.

“No, it is not because of ‘Baron’,” he scoffed. “And it’s bad manners to rename a feline who has an owner and a perfectly good primary name to begin with.”

Regardless of the incorrigible thing’s habit of coming to him when he continued to let the name slip.

It was all Merlin’s fault, anyway.

He was the one who started calling it ‘Baron’ first.

“You know it’s actually named ‘Baron’, right?” Eggsy huffed a laugh against him.

“Nice try,” he sniffed. “I’m not falling for that trick. It’s the oldest one in the book. We trained you better than that, Unwin.”

The smile was still there, he felt it buried in his shoulder.

“I _refuse_ to fall for that trick,” he reiterated, the tips of his fingers tangling in Eggsy’s hair.

He looked down into Eggsy’s smile as the young Knight shifted to look back up at him.

Their eyes connected for a long time before Eggsy’s smile gentled and he slowly stretched up as Harry slowly leaned down, their lips brushing softly together.

Once, twice, three times, neither making a move to go deeper.

In fact, he should probably be a little flustered at what was essentially their first kiss so soon into this relationship, but then they’d probably been dating for over a year and it seemed almost extraordinarily natural to let their lips brush a few more times.

“Figures,” Eggsy murmured as they drew away from the other.

“Hm?” he let his head rest against the back of the couch, his eyes falling half-closed as Eggsy snuggled back into him.

“Our first kiss bein’ soft as butterflies,” he explained, seeming more amused than anything else. “’m still waitin’ to see what all the fuss is about bein’ courted, so don’t think you’re off the hook just ‘cause I kissed you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he gave a happy hum. “It’ll be quite the series of lessons, I assure you.”

“I keep thinkin’ it’ll defeat the purpose if it’s gonna be you that’s teachin’ me, but it’ll be like our own code or somethin’.”

“Mm-hm.”

“I was lookin’ inta flowers th’ other day.”

“Mm.”

“And didja know there’s a language of flowers?”

“Hm.”

“And, ya know, Haz, not everyone knows that or can understand it.”

“Mm.”

“Makes me wonder what we can say to each other when no one else knows what’s bein’ said.”

* **

He blinked sleepily and yawned.

It was completely dark.

Rubbing his eyes, he found a clock and stared blankly when he saw that it was well after midnight.

He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch again.

The last thing he remembered was Eggsy talking to him when he probably closed his eyes and dropped right off.

Scrubbing his face with his hands, he woke up a little more and blinked again.

He was alone on the couch in the living room, the house completely as dark as it was outside.

Well, not entirely dark. It was a clear night and the moon was just full enough to give out some light.

Light or not, he couldn’t pinpoint Eggsy’s location off-hand.

He was probably upstairs in one of their rooms, looking through even more World War II books – as if the first round hadn’t assuaged any curiosity he’d once had.

Giving the room a deep sigh, he levered himself up and stretched. The sleep had done him good, the aches not quite as noticeable as a usual sleep on the couch offered.

Feeling parched, he shuffled to the kitchen as he expertly dodged obstacles and was refilling his glass again when he heard a telltale ‘mrow’ before something brushed against his legs.

He blinked down into a pair of reflective eyes. “Baron?” he frowned. “Now, how did you get in here?”

He crouched down to pet familiar ears as he scoured the kitchen in search of an answer and eventually lit upon the open back door.

“Ah. So, that’s it, hm?” a smile curled his lips at another ‘mrow’ before the cat trotted back to the door and slipped out.

Fairly certain he’d closed and locked it ages ago, he followed the cat and found it making a beeline to the figure laying on its back in the grass.

It seemed that Eggsy hadn’t been upstairs at all.

Harry wasn’t exactly tired anymore, so he shrugged and stepped out. “Eggsy?” he called, watching a hand come up to wave before it buried in Baron’s soft fur. He moved to the blond’s side and sunk down on the grass, Baron coming over a moment later. “Not that I blame you for trying to enjoy the night,” he mused, “but what’s brought you out here so late?”

He didn’t receive an answer for a long time.

Baron eventually decided he was needed elsewhere – the Cat Bureau? _Damn it, Merlin!_ – and allowed one last rub before making his way to the border wall, hopping up and over to continue his night’s journey.

Harry watched him go with a slight smile until he heard a noise from the blond lying next to him.

A sniffle.

“Eggsy?” he immediately turned with a frown that grew deeper when he spied fresh tear tracks reflecting moonlight. “What’s happened, darling?”

Eggsy swallowed roughly and more tears dropped into the grass under him before he rasped, “The beach.”

“The beach?” he blinked, recalling the younger Knight’s dislike of beaches. “What happened at the beach?”

“There – I – they’re all gone, ‘arry,” he choked, blinking rapidly and dispelling more tears. “That’s – that’s what I was dreamin’ about. What I was always dreamin’ about and… and I remembered.”

Harry jolted with surprise. “Dreams. You remembered your dreams?”

Eggsy’s lips were shaking as he pressed them together, but Harry got the answer nonetheless.

All the dreams that haunted the both of them for what seemed like years? Eggsy finally remembered them?

“What on earth changed?”

Eggsy sniffled a few more times. “Reckon it… it was time to ‘member. I don’t know. It hurts.”

The quiet admission had Harry reaching out to touch Eggsy’s arm, his thoughts racing at the new turn. “What – can you tell me about them?”

Finally – _finally_ -, he was getting answers.

Eggsy was quiet for a long time. “There was a beach,” he hitched a breath. “There was a beach and… and there were bombs goin’ off and … And munitions fire. Ain’t never seen nothin’ like it,” his tone was filled with a sort of wonder despite the tears that kept running down the sides of his face. “We – we was gettin’ the shit kicked outta us - thousands of us on the beach – and we kept runnin’. ‘cause that was all that mattered. We had to keep runnin’. And I – I knew I wasn’t gonna make it. It was in the back of my head, you know? It was absolute certain. Orders was to keep runnin’, don’t stop, no matter what. I knew I was gonna die, Harry. But there wasn’t nothin’ I could do.”

_Don’t send me back._

_Please._

_I don’t want to die._

“Had to – had to go. I didn’t want to – I didn’t want to die, but a lot of the boys didn’t want to die, either, and they went. Mean, I knew I was gonna die eventually, but – but why’d it have to be a beach?” he gave a light sob. “Loved beaches. An’ – an’ I was gonna die on one.”

Harry felt sick, but he had to ask. “Did you?”

There was another sob, this one full of sadness. “Didn’t even make it ten minutes ‘fore I was gunned down. Ain’t nothin’ could be done. Laid there,” he sobbed again. “Laid there on the sand. Other guys was runnin’ past and none of ‘em could stop. I was so _scared_. Couldn’t scream like I wanted to. Wouldn’t have made a damn lick of difference, anyway. Guns was shootin’ over us and there weren’t nowhere to hide. Fuck,” his eyes squeezed closed. “It was a fuckin’ _slaughter_ and I couldn’t sleep for days, because I was so scared and I knew I was gonna die, but I was gettin’ tired and – and I went to sleep. I went to sleep when so many of the lads were dyin’ on a lost cause and I had to get up. I had to get up, ‘arry. _I had to get the fuck up_ ,” he shouted. “I had to run, but I fell asleep. Oh, god, I fell asleep. I fell asleep.”

Harry was barely holding it together as he gathered Eggsy into his arms, heartbreaking sobs becoming muffled in his shirt as the long held back emotions finally – at long last – poured out.

He was barely aware of the force of the sobs shaking even himself as things slowly began to sink in.

Good god, he swallowed.

Everything was making a horrific sense now.

All the desperation and fear and pleading, all the sobs and screams and sleepless nights.

Every piece of Harry’s heart that had broken before _shattered_.

“Oh, Eggsy,” tears leaked out from his own eyes as he squeezed them shut and held Eggsy tighter.

The one person who didn’t deserve anymore strife just continued to draw the short end of it.

*

Morning light was streaming through the windows, but neither Harry nor Eggsy reacted as they stared unseeingly at the cups of cold tea in front of them.

At some point, they’d moved inside, but Harry couldn’t say when.

His thoughts were fuzzy and there was a lingering sense of guilt as he thought of what Eggsy told him.

“Stop that,” the rough admonishment had him tiredly blinking up at Eggsy, who didn’t let his red eyes stop him from glaring. “I know what yer thinkin’, Haz. So stop.”

“And what would that be?”

“You wish you were with me – wherever the fuck that hell was -, but you wasn’t and now you got that guilty look on your face when you look at me. You already been through one hell –”

“Yes, I most certainly was,” he nodded. “But you were with me, then. I couldn’t be there for you in return.”

“But you were,” Eggsy grabbed his hand. “You were there for me when I remembered some of it. You were there and Merlin and Rox.”

“After the fact.”

“Hell, it had to be after the fact, ‘cause it ain’t happened in this life.”

He opened his mouth to argue further, but realized he had absolutely nothing to say.

Eggsy was probably right that there was no need to feel guilty over something he’d had absolutely no control over, but that wasn’t going to stop him from feeling so.

Eggsy knew him and knew that aspect of him well, so he just accepted that with a nod as they lapsed into silence.

“So, what do we do now?” Harry eventually blew out a sigh.

“Dunno. Don’t wanna go to sleep for a long time, anymore. Every time I try to think about it…” he looked down. “Every time I think about goin’ to sleep, I remember the sand. Then I can’t go to sleep.”

Harry didn’t blame him after his own nightmare come to life both simultaneously years ago and seemingly yesterday. “Which is why you can no longer relax on a beach, despite nothing happening.”

“Guess.”

Harry sighed and gave Eggsy’s hand a squeeze before letting go and resting his chin on his interlocked fingers. “Where do we go from here?”

Eggsy gave an almost manic sounding laugh. “You know the fuckin’ craziest thing? I want to go to Dunkirk. It’s – I don’t know. I read about it and… And I really want to go.”

“Alright.”

“What?” Eggsy stared at him. “For real?”

“I don’t see why not. Neither one of us has anything pressing on the docket, so we can leave when you like.”

Harry watched him work his mouth, brow furrowed as he tried to protest.

Eventually, he sat back with a blank look on his face.

“We’re going to Dunkirk,” he voiced almost to himself before a slow excitement started to dawn over his features. “Dunkirk. We – we’re really – _Dunkirk_.”

Whatever misgivings Harry had were washed away in the force of his delight, as easily as sand gave way to the tide.

* * *

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay. This is it.
> 
> I hope you like this last chapter - fittingly posted on the 74th D-Day Anniversary.
> 
> Enjoy.

* * *

Harry was actually a bit impressed with Eggsy’s restraint.

He’d been certain that he’d find himself either on a ferry or a plane to Dunkirk before nightfall that day.

Eggsy lasted two, their arrival landing them in the middle of the week on a bit of a cloudy morning.

Their hotel was within walking distance of the famed Dunkirk Beach, but Harry noted the marked nervousness the closer they got and wondered if it wouldn’t have gone amiss had their journey back and forth been a bit longer.

“Ain’ hungry,” he shook his head as Harry once again tried to get him to eat a bit of toast. “You can eat.”

Harry simply watched him get more nervous, unable to help him any more than he already had.

As much as he hated to admit it, this was not his journey to make and only Eggsy would have a true understanding of whatever importance he’d laid on their holiday.

Which meant that any well-meaning attempt to delay would not be taken lightly or well.

Instead, Harry smiled encouragingly. “Ready when you are.”

“Right,” he nodded, then nodded again. “Right. Uhm, I need the loo. Wait for me?”

“I’ll be out in the hall.”

Harry leaned against the wall next to their room door and settled in to wait.

The stairwell door was propped open and he heard footsteps coming down.

“Hurry up, Darling!” an English accent drifted over, excitement threading through a male voice. “The beach waits for no man!”

“Hell’s sake, Eames,” an American accent – also male – responded, a thread of fond amusement drifting over to Harry, who felt his own smile form at the familiarity of an excited partner hurrying the other along. “It’s just up the street. Calm down.”

“The beach will erode and then where would that leave us?”

“You’ll trip and then I’ll have to explain to your employees and your customers how you ended up in the hospital and where would that leave me?”

They presumably continued their banter, but Harry heard them leave the stairwell and amused himself with creating that particular backstory.

Eggsy, face a bit pale and not looking well at all, appeared and both made sure they had everything before they locked up. “Best not keep the beach waiting,” he swallowed.

“After you,” Harry invited, falling in at his shoulder as they took the stairs.

There were people on the street as they left the hotel and Harry took a moment to wonder if they would run into their stair-taking neighbors from upstairs.

There was the slim possibility, but it was there, nonetheless.

Eggsy stayed quiet as they went, their route meandering to the beachfront where everything had taken place.

Harry wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting to happen, but he gladly took the offered hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’m right here,” he leaned forward to speak almost directly in his ear.

“I know,” he nodded, that knowledge giving him a sort of confidence boost as his shoulders straightened.

They turned a corner and, suddenly, they were there.

The beach stretched out in front of them, the waves gently lapping at the sand from a bit of an astonishing distance away.

Harry knew how long the beach had to be, but he’d never actually seen it for himself and it was a bit of a novelty for the first time in a long while.

There were people on the beach, but they didn’t stay as it was mostly joggers and walkers – locals and tourists alike – went on about their day.

It was quiet enough that Harry simply watched the beach in silence, reflecting on the actions taken long before he was born.

As good an Agent as he was – with creativity and imagination -, it was still difficult to fully comprehend what it must have been like for all those poor lads on the beach, waiting for evacuation as bombers flew overhead.

He imagined they felt rather like sitting ducks, with little cover to use and nowhere to run.

What must it have been like, being on the beach and waiting his turn?

He would have felt nervous and relief and scared, most of all. The Allies had had targets painted on their backs and they’d all been aware of it.

The civilians who had come to their aid in all manners of boats and pleasure cruisers had worn true badges of courage that day, answering the call despite the dangers that flew over their heads every step of the way.

And the brave pilots of the RAF.

Without them, the war would have turned out so very different.

Such a shame that the soldiers awaiting their evacuation would never know the hell those pilots flew into for them.

Their job – in this case – had been completely thankless due to the fact that the ground troops had felt abandoned to die on these beaches, completely convinced of what they believed to be true and unwilling to listen to reality.

Harry could honestly not tell what group he admired - sympathized, felt sorry for - more than the others.

“Fuck,” he blinked at the reminder that he wasn’t actually alone. A glance to the side showed Eggsy solemn and serious in a way he very rarely felt the need to be. “Just… fuck.”

Harry gave a wordless noise of agreement.

Crude as the sentiment was, it was still… possibly the closest thing to a description of the view and the history and – and everything Harry suddenly couldn’t find words for.

Several beats passed before Harry finally blew out a sigh and turned his attention on the silent blond beside him. “Are you alright?”

Eggsy looked out at the beach and the waves, not giving any hint to his thoughts. “I think I am,” he eventually frowned.

He didn’t look as nervous or tense as he was before. Both of them had probably been expecting some sort of fit that just didn’t come.

It wasn’t that he looked relaxed, either, but he just looked…

Better.

Not quite content. At peace?

That didn’t seem to fit, either, but perhaps it was something along the lines of – strangely enough – _healing_.

That grey area between contentment and peace and ‘it’s going to take time, but I think I’m okay now.’

It was a hell of a lot better than what Harry had unfortunately gotten used to.

“You don’t have to stay,” Eggsy suddenly told him. “I… I mean if you want to, I’m not going to stop you or anything.”

Eggsy was the reason that Harry was even on this trip, so if the blond needed some time alone, Harry would have to give that to him.

Anyway, perhaps there was a bit of a deeper need for being alone and Harry couldn’t argue that, either.

“In that case, I do think I saw a nice coffee place around here. Should I bring you some?”

“I’ll just walk along the beach, here. No, I’ll be fine. You enjoy your cuppa without worryin’ about me, Haz,” the small smile was more reassuring than anything else. “But you can meet me here at this spot when you’re done. Might have to walk a ways in either direction, but I think you can find me if you look.”

“Just don’t do anything drastic while I’m gone,” he deadpanned. “I’d hate to explain to Arthur how you decided to jump into the water to rescue someone and ended up in an underground cave system or something similar that requires explosives.”

“… I wonder what it’s like in your head, sometimes,” Eggsy had to laugh.

He just smiled wryly back.

“But seriously, Haz,” he turned a stern look on him. “Go on and do your crossword book at an actual place, okay? I don’ want to turn around in ten minutes to find you doubled back and is followin’ me.”

The request was clear and Harry heaved a sigh in resignation.

“Very well. I will be back in two hours. If you are not –”

“You’ll track me down with explosives,” he nodded seriously. “Got it. I’ll see you, okay?” he smiled into his eyes. “I’ll just be around here, somewhere.”

“See that you are,” Harry gave a nod and set off back in the direction they’d come.

Eventually finding a cozy café, he found an empty corner table in the almost empty space and settled in with his crossword booklet. He interacted with the staff in flawless French – unable to keep himself from imagining Eggsy huffing a laugh at him in unsurprised disbelief with a _‘posh wanker’_ added in with fondness – and soon found himself with a cup at his elbow as he worked to keep himself occupied.

He still worried about his partner, but he’d given his word that he would give Eggsy space and so he kept wrenching a majority of his thoughts back to this number of letters on three across and this word twenty-seven down, last letter ‘y’.

It was certainly a valiant effort, but Harry was still aware of the slowly inching time and still fought the urge to ask Merlin to track Eggsy to make absolutely _certain_ he didn’t need to race to the rescue, guns blazing.

He was staring into his empty cup, debating a refill or getting something else, when a ping on his glasses had him sitting up in alarm. “Merlin?” he was glad for the relative privacy as the staff busied themselves with the few other guests near the front. He made sure to keep his head tipped down as if concentrating on the puzzle in front of him, so others would glance over and believe him to be muttering to himself.

Worryingly, his friend didn’t answer.

“Merlin?” he didn’t like the continued silence, his alarm growing. “Have you been compromised?”

He heard a noise. _‘No,’_ he relaxed when his friend finally deigned to answer. Odd that he sounded like his nose was stuffed up. _‘No, I’m here_ ,’ and it sounded strangely like his friend’s Scottish accent was thicker.

“With a cold?” he frowned slightly, unable to think of the last time he’d even seen his old friend. Maybe the Scot had come down with something and he’d just never seen him recently enough to confirm.

_‘Not – not quite. Just – a moment.’_

“Take all the time you need,” he looked back down at his cup and decided to go for the same order. He was just settling back in when Merlin came back.

_‘Right. So, I- I’ve been looking into the lad’s records and still could no’ fin’ anything.’_

“Ah,” Harry winced. “Actually, that’s been a bit cleared up. Mostly.” He knew what Eggsy had been dreaming about, but not ‘why’ he’d been dreaming of… his dreams in the first place.

 _‘Good. Tha’s – tha’s good,’_ Merlin still sounded odd, in a way that a stuffed nose couldn’t completely explain. _‘I’m sure Roxy will be glad to know. Wha’ever you feel comfortable sharing, o’ course.’_

“Merlin,” he said after the man trailed off. “You didn’t call me just to say that you didn’t find anything.” Harry knew him and the idea that he couldn’t have just emailed him didn’t sit right.

There was a long silence.

_‘I… I did no’ come up as… as empty-handed as I thought I would.’_

“And?” he prompted after another moment of silence.

Merlin sighed, _‘Best sit down for this, Harry.’_

“I am,” his chest tightened. “Tell me everything.”

He heard another, deeper, sigh. _‘Well… there’s – there’s no’… an easy way to say this. Do you recall telling me about the Knights active during the Second World War? Abou’ your predecessor, specifically?’_

“As if I could forget,” he snorted. “The man knew nothing about being a spy.”

_‘Yes, well, I decided to dig into my own predecessor’s files and came across a Private Collins spoken of with some respect.’_

“Yes, Private Collins,” he nodded. “Second World War Galahad noted quite a few run-ins with him over the years.”

_‘Mm, yes. I did some looking into the young man. He had some impressive records and borderline insubordinate behaviour. Yet, every man under him adored him, allowing him to get more out of them than most other officers – even those above him within his own Battalion.’_

A smile flickered over his face, because that certainly sounded familiar. “What did your predecessor have to say about him?”

Here, the silence was distinctly filled with something strange.

_‘He wrote down that… that Collins may well be Galahad’s proposal should a spot open up at the table.’_

“I was under the impression that the lad would’ve rightfully shot his arse than allow himself to be recruited by the git.”

_‘Your predecessor did seem to admire the lad and thought he would be a perfect fit for Kingsman. Unfortunately for the both of our predecessors, no one died during the war – an act of Heaven in and of itself.’_

“But he was proposed at one point?” Harry was caught by the story, now.

Merlin was silent for a long moment. _‘No. No, he – he never got the chance_.’

Oh.

“He didn’t make it past the War,” a sense of sadness came over him as he recalled meeting the young Private through his predecessor’s eyes. He sounded like someone both he and Eggsy would’ve greatly liked. “Shame.”

_‘His records stop at Normandy, but he’d definitely had quite the record. He was even at Dunkirk, evacuated from the beaches there.’_

“I’m sure I wouldn’t be surprised to find he’d caused some sort of mutiny on board a ship to keep loading his fellow soldiers.”

 _‘He was lucky to get out,’_ Merlin sighed again. _‘From what I understand of it, an RAF Spitfire came to the rescue in the nick of bloody time. The pilot stayed over Dunkirk until a few more planes arrived and I believe he was captured by the Germans shortly afterward. Farrier, I believe the pilot’s name was, did make it through the war and returned to Britain. He died either of injury or illness complications five or six years later.’_

“That still paints most of the pilots in a bad light,” Harry shook his head.

 _‘True enough_ ,’ they lapsed into a moment’s silence. _‘Anyway, the Private was back out little more than a month later.’_

“Only to die at Normandy. Do we know where he was buried?” Maybe he’d go to Normandy, after all, to visit Collins.

_‘… no. Now, there is a very good chance that he’d simply been unidentified and – ”_

“His name came up and there was no body to bury,” he finished, wincing and rubbing his forehead.

He couldn’t help feeling cheated on the former Private’s behalf.

All of the Private’s work both with Second World War Galahad and the British Army should have landed him with something more than a name on a wall where no one would even remember him.

All of his bravery and pluck and grudging admiration and respect from two of Kingsman’s most hard to impress Agents – even to the point where he could’ve been an Agent himself.

That – all of it – should’ve been rewarded somehow.

“Did he not have family?” At the very least, a medal would’ve sufficed.

_‘An estranged cousin. From what anyone could tell, they weren’t very close and I can’t actually be sure they really knew each other existed. The lad’s immediate family died of illness shortly before the War and during the Blitz. In short, even if he had made it to the end, there would’ve been no one left to come home to.’_

That.

That was more of a punch to the gut than it had any right to be.

That brave young man deserved some source of comfort – much like all the rest of them had.

Much like Eggsy had and Harry still felt a sense of failure in that regard.

“My predecessor wasn’t close to him?”

 _‘They would be called ‘reluctant friends’, I believe the term goes,’_ dry amusement made a small smile cross his own face. _‘That wasn’t to say the previous Galahad hadn’t at least tried to make it a bit bearable. Somewhere in the middle of their first encounter, in fact, the both of them had somehow managed to pull off a fresh shipment of eggs for dinner **that night** for two Companies.’_

“Impressive,” Harry nodded. “Not an easy feat for anyone to pull off for just about two hundred and fifty people. Although,” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “I’m sure it was quite the ticket to his men’s hearts.” He also suspected it had made Collins a bit of a hero.

 _‘Certainly didn’t hurt,’_ there was that odd tone in Merlin’s voice again. _‘As a result, however, he did get landed a bit of a nickname.’_

“Which was?”

 _‘…’_ There were slight noises, as if Merlin was trying to make his voice work, and it took very long minutes of worrying silence before he finally heard, _‘Eggsy.’_

Gooseflesh immediately raced up and down Harry’s arms as a shiver raised the hair on the back of his neck.

“I… I suppose it wasn’t – wasn’t a completely illogical moniker,” he answered weakly.

_‘No, it was not. You predecessor refused to use it, of course, much preferring his title, his last name or… on a few occasions to rile him… his first.’_

“The lad didn’t like his first name?” That sounded a bit _too_ familiar, a second shiver trickling down his spine.

_‘Oh, the lad liked his first name fine. It was just the shortened version he was adverse to.’_

A feeling came over him. “Merlin –”

‘ _Gareth_ ,’ the information almost came rushing out. _‘His name. Gareth Collins. Your predecessor enjoyed calling him ‘Gary’. My own predecessor – from what I’ve read of his notes – suspected that Collins would’ve been a prime candidate had he made it out of the war, if not an actual Knight himself, so… So, my predecessor decided that there needed to be a bit of a… a … a badge of honor in his…’_ Merlin trailed off a bit helplessly before continuing. _‘You’re aware of the list of names we have in reserve for prospective Knights in the event that a second Knight comes out of training. My predecessor had it set up so that the auxiliary name ‘Gareth’ would be the very first name to come up at the top of the list should that event occur. Had Lee actually lived, I suspect either he or James would have been the first ‘Gareth’ since Second World War Merlin put that into effect.’_

A name that _Eggsy_ , Lee’s son, now held.

“Bloody coincidence, isn’t it?” his thoughts were strangely getting difficult to grasp.

 _‘I honestly would’ve thought the same had I not dug deeper,’_ Merlin sounded like he was barely holding it together as it was. _‘The Private was – was our lad’s age when he… during Normandy, so… as bloody impossible as it sounds, maybe Roxy could be onto something with PTSD. Harry, I know that neither one o’ us believes in – in some higher power or tha’ shite, bu’ … bu’ I canno’ find a fuckin’ thing to explain this –’_

A black and white picture showed up on the left side.

_‘- or this –’_

A tree of names showed up on the right, a bolded line showing the family of Gareth Collins ending with –

The pen fell from Harry’s suddenly nerveless fingers.

_‘ – except for somethin’ I’m pretty damn certain neither one of us believed in before today.’_

The picture on the left depicted three young men, smiling in that youthful cocky way all young men had before war truly ravaged them.

And yet, it was the young man on the left most side that caught the eye, his vaguely familiar features crowned by a strikingly familiar grin under a hat set at an equally familiar angle.

There would not be a doubt in Harry’s suddenly blank mind of that young man’s identity, but his eyes were still caught by the estranged branch of Gareth Collins’ family tree.

Or rather, the name of his last surviving relative.

He stared at it for a very long time.

“Merlin,” he eventually had the wherewithal to decided. “I need a drink.”

‘ _Aye_ , _but it’ll probably be a whole beach’s worth before this starts to make sense,_ ’ he dimly heard the reply a beat before hearing his oldest friend’s almost hysterical laughter.

It took all his years of experience as Senior Kingsman Agent Galahad to keep him from laughing, too, because he couldn’t be sure he would have the ability to stop.

* * *

END

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I bet the title is making an awful lot of sense now, right? ;)
> 
> I enjoyed writing this story a lot and I'm actually very happy about how it came together. 
> 
> This can be read as a standalone, but the second story (Arthur/Eames from 'Inception') in this little trilogy should be out before June 25th. I hope to see you then.
> 
> I want to thank all of you for all your comments and kudos and the warm response. Each and every one of you are awesome and don't let anyone tell you different.
> 
> Lots of love,  
> HM
> 
> ***This story is dedicated to those names on the wall, the unknowns and the empty graves of WWII. I honestly don't know if Private Gareth 'Eggsy' Collins could have actually existed, but there are boys like him that never made it home. Sadly, many of them never will.***


End file.
